genuflection

there is this deep rattling in my chest.
something wants to come loose.
get out, you thing.
get out, you old things that makes me wheezy.

because i’ve done this back and forthing as much as i have,
i know that when i come back from the states, i come back to the Philippines all wheezy.
it’s happened every single time.
i consider it a kind of cleanse.

this kind of asthma that i experience is mostly obstructive, rather than constrictive. i wheeze because the air passages are blocked because i am coughing up some ancient goop.

i’ve come to know this goop as ‘grief incarnate.’

i remember it making so much sense when my friend, Vassi, told me, some years ago now, that in chinese medicine, it is believed that we hold grief in our lungs. and since, most of my health problems, as well as my family’s health problems, stem from all things respiratory, i know we hold a lot of grief-personal, familial, cultural, and ancestral.

this time around tho, this goop, this ‘grief incarnate,’ has a different quality.
it is less in volume and more tenacious, harder to clear.
to me, this means, i’m gettin’ down to it; i’ve cleared so much already.
so, this stuff that i am clearing now must be super duper old.
and…it’s gotta go.
go, please!
thank you!

so, i guess this means i am triple cleansing.
moon.
goop.
master.

i’m almost there in accepting that it’s just not in the stars that i do things, one thing at a time anymore.

Rowell is sleeping in the other room.
and it makes me happy to see him rest.
(and, this must be shared: i am resisting the urge SO HARD to morning chatterbox him. i acknowlege that this is a particular tendency of mine. i happen to think of it as endearing. i’ve gotten feedback, however, more than once, from, ahem, different pea-op-lays, that it is decidedly not.)
(*insert innocent looking, slightly incredulous shoulder shrug here*)

i snuck into the kitchen to do my saltwater flush.
then quietly did my morning sit.
he slept right through it.
sadhana postponed ‘til later.
as well as liturgicals.

today, my plans are to get my house right.
i still haven’t unpacked all the way from my last trip (i do this.), and i’m fixin’ to go on another in 2 days. so, i’ll unpack all the way today. and survey the laundry situation.
it’s summer here, so no real worries for a “rain delay” to affect laundry drying plans.
and, i note that i am not really looking forward to doing laundry.

i wish it were a matter of just throwing it in the washing machine and calling it a day.
pero, my washing machine is my two hands and a washboard. and a little baby stool that squat on while washing. and a big plastic wash basin (rinse cycle), a medium plastic wash basin (wash cycle), and a bucket (spin cycle with softener) i really make sure my clothes are good and dirty before i decide to wash them here. and, i’ve noticed that this practice has carried over to how i do my laundry stateside as well, even with all the gadgetry.
that’s good.
that’s growth.

fortunately, i don’t have so much cleaning to do besides that.
windows and floors mostly.
and i have to refill all the dehumidifiers i have stashed in my closet and under the kitchen sink.
(they’re full again! ah, moist tropics!)

and, i want to get my altar in order before i go off again.
(it’s looking kinda bare. and for the life of me, i can’t seem to remember where i put that wooden Buddha of mine, the one with the slightly stooped posture. and i want a santo of Sta. Rita made.)

OH, and i have an altar!
Mang Ado, finally, came thru.
i’ve been patiently waiting for 3 months.
he’s been too busy planting rice and building new apartment units to build me the furniture i’ve been asking him for.
namely, my altar and a shelf for my kitchen things.

when i came home last week, i was double surprised.
i had some new furniture…
and my house was arranged and clean!

Rowell cleaned my house while i was away.
like top to bottom cleaned.
he took a bit of poetic license on where stuff went, for which even my persnickety Virgo shut her mouth wide open because…i didn’t have to sweep or mop or clear rusty water from pipes or wash dishes or wipe down counters or change sheets, or anything of the sort, when i got home. prolly the best gift i’ve ever gotten. a very good way to come home.

i think i’ll ask Mang Ado, later, if he can help me hang my bamboo blinds in the big window and my mirror, too. (which means i’ll have to decide, once and for all, where that thing goes.) and i need some nails where i can hang the walis and mop, too. oh gosh, wait, i have some art, too. (on second thought, i’ll wait on the art.)

oh, and i want to dust and reorganize my bookshelf, too.
my bookshelf is the anchor of my place. it’s like 10 feet high and 8 feet wide and chock-a-bock full of books. and other random tchotchkes. Rowell said that was the next thing he wanted to organize/clean in my place, and i’m secretly relieved he didn’t get to it.

my books are so…personal.

and i do have them grossly arranged.
tho, to the untrained eye, it would be, perhaps, imperceptible. the higher shelves are for oversized books, books that i’ve read already, or books that i don’t have any plans of reading soon.
the tippy top shelf has different sized bayong boxes full of art supplies.
the very bottom shelf has another set of bayong boxes full of spare bathroom things.
the eye level shelves have the books that are up near the front of the reading list queue.
the second to the bottom shelf is all things yoga, where my yoga bolster, blocks, mat, strap, and eye pillow live.
the rest are all books, books, and books.
there are also some piles of paper and old conference nametags and old credit card hotel keys and receipts and empty guitar brand match boxes (future art project) and boxes of incense and small piles of different colored rubber bands mixed in there. and… i noticed some cobwebs…

this should keep me busy
so, laundry may wait until tomorrow, but at least i’ll get it sorted and soaking by tonight.

i don’t think that there is anything going on at the church today.
this is prolly why Rowell is still sleeping in the other room on the couch/bed at 8am.

ah, correction.

he just got up from said couch/bed, sleepy shuffled to my room, made sleepy face good morning grin towards me, and, after some computer power cord adjustment, promptly fell asleep, on his belly again, next to me, as i write this.
i really do love this one.
Agape.

yesterday, i went to mass at 3pm.
we sang the Pasyon in Kampampangan.
afterwards, Among Gene said a homily.
then, Among Gene started giving instruction, and since it was all in Kampampangan, i didn’t really understand any of it except form two lines, genuflect, and exit the same side you came in.

what the heck was happening?
i had no idea what to expect.
then, i noticed that the huge double doors of the main entrance of the church were wide open. there were people jam-packed, spilling out the doors.

then, about 35 men sweating and huffing and puffing carried in a huge wooden cross, with great difficulty, to the front of the church, towards the altar. people sitting in the pews near the center aisle, were asked to move in so that they would not get hurt, as the men shuffled in with this enormous cross and carefully set it down level on cut tree stumps, about 2 feet in diameter, about 2 feet high.

i think my mouth hung open the whole time they were bringing it in.
it occurred to me that this was a life size cross.
i had never seen one before.
(i am reminded here of the value of direct experience…and how cerebral the US is and how visceral the Philippines are.)

the cross was 8-10 inches thick, maybe 9 feet across, 12 feet long,
it was prolly the very same kind that Jesus, the man, was crucified on.
there were at least 35 men struggling to bring this in.
heavy, heavy.
their process of working together in this task was infused with humility, bayanihan, and kapwa.

i realized that this cross was made and brought into the church on Good Friday, so that we could each kiss it and genuflect before it, as a sign of our gratitude.

maybe this is a good time for me to come out of the closet.

i love Jesus.

there i said it.
i would have never, ever have thought that i would say such a thing, much less mean it as much as i do.

but, i do love him.
and, i’m happy to be getting to know him.
in my anthroposophical studies, in particular, i’ve been hearing about and doing some reading on the Cosmic Christ and the inner Christ. i’ve listened to Caroline Myss speak about the way Jesus held and kept his Sacred Contract, despite not understanding it fully. in addition, it is holy week and all, so i’ve kinda been steeping in some serious Lenten tea.

AND, in the PAG-ASA talk i attended last week, Fe Mangahas reminded us that Jesus, was a radical.
he was an activist.
he was crucified for his beliefs.
and his beliefs challenged the power structures of the day.
that the thieves who hung next to him on crosses were bound by ropes, and that he, only he was nailed.
because to question the validity of a corrupt power dynamic, the over-arching structure much like the Matrix, which pervades practically every facet of daily life and that is as easy as breathing to collude in it, is dangerous.

Jesus threatened the establishment by daring to question.
and his questions led to his actions.
and his actions pointed a Way.

a different Way.
a better Way.
a humane Way.
an integral Way.
an aligned Way.
a way to Freedom.

to say he died for our sins does not contextualize it enough.
what the hell does that really mean?
and i realize that all these years of hearing about Jesus, i had been missing that context.
and now, that i have it, i am in utter awe of this person and the way he chose to live.

i was writing to my friend, Simha, earlier this week, where i first professed my love for Jesus.

i love that he was human.
the qualities and concepts that i associate with him include humility, warmth, acceptance, Truth, Service, a deep love for humanity, conviction, alignment, compassion, surrender, and sacrifice. these are not unique just to him. they are actually ALL available to ALL people ALL the time. like Buddha-nature, we have these things in us already.
and the difference, the remarkable difference, is choice.

simply put, it is a CHOICE we have to express these qualities in every thought, word, and action that we do.

to quote the Warrior Spirit Prayer for Awakening, perhaps my most favorite of anything written by my Teacher,
“…may i exercise the precious gift of choice and the power to change that makes me uniquely human and is the only to true path to liberation…”

it is a CHOICE.
it is a CHOICE.
it is a CHOICE…
to be Free.

so, yesterday, i fell in line, and genuflected and touched my forehead to the enormous wooden cross. and i whispered, “thank you” to Jesus for pointing a Way. and i whispered, “thank you” to all others who do the same.

tears were flowing down my cheeks as i did this, as
tears are flowing down my cheeks as i write this.

and, i think it is my most fervent wish that everyone have the experience of freely choosing to make it non-optional for them to steadily peer inward and really love what they see. and in that loving, their actions are guided towards loving others just the same: no separation. and in that loving, there will be more to point a Way.