Get a "Life"

It's been a while since I had a must-see TV show. I have several I enjoy, but if I miss them, it's of no large concern. I think the last time I had a show where I refused to answer the phone and on nights I had to miss it, just in case, I double recorded it, was "West Wing". I've been feeling good about the fact that I have not developed any other TV obsession, until now. Fortunately, we now have Fancast so I can watch old episodes and get caught up.

What is this new addiction? "Life". Here's the premise: A cop is falsely convicted of murder. Since he's a cop, the other prisoners regularly beat the crap out of him, his wife divorces him, and he discovers Zen. After 12 years it is discovered that he was falsely accused, is set free with a substantial (at least seven figures) settlement, and goes back on the job. He is now quirky, awkward, and has little to no relationship with, or understanding of, camera phones, instant messaging, and car GPS systems. His Zen education is obviously self-taught and thus he is stumbling toward enlightenment the best he can figure out how.

One of my favorite lines so far is when he is driving his extremely hot new car and he keeps repeating, "I am NOT attached to this car. I am NOT attached to this car. I'm just attached to this car."

Think about it.

Plus it has Robin Weigert in it. I love her. And Adam Arkin. I love him too. I met him once - very handsome.

The Buddha Machine vs. Lawn Signs

Many of my friendships are defined by particular characteristics. These characteristics may not be unique to this particular relationship (say, "shoe shopping buddy"), nor are they the sum-total of the relationship, but they are somehow an important part of the identity of that relationship. My friend and, until recently, co-worker, Mats and I have one of those relationships. It is defined by our fondness for weird Asian kitsch. We have been buying each other stuff for years. All of it somewhat inexpensive, all of it amusing.

This year for my birthday I received from him the Buddha Machine. Cool, weird, funky (don't know how much he paid for it, so I can't tell you if it was cheap), and wonderful. It is a small, blue, plastic mechanical device from China that plays twelve different Buddhist chants. It comes on a lanyard - need I say more. Not being entirely sure what to do with it, I have hung it in my car where I could be serenaded at will.

Today I was driving to a far suburb, and about half-way there I flipped on the Machine, chose a chant and chilled. I was curious what letting this thing run would be like. It took me a minute or two with several of the chants to really settle into one, but once I did - whoa.

What I Learned:

First of all, chants are something that allow your mind to focus on one, simple thing. Playing chants is a weird thing to do when you're driving. You are both more present, but less alert; or the opposite; or something. At first, it did not permeate my reality that much. Then, suddenly, I understood that the chants were beginning to draw my attention and I wondered if driving and chants were as good a combo as I had initially thought. (I learned a while ago that I couldn't listen to Eckhardt Tolle and drive at the same time.)

Again suddenly, I realized that I was experiencing a synthesis between the driving and the chanting. It was about this time that I hit the edge of the 'burb's residential area. Spread before me about every block or so, was a house with political campaign signs. The majority of these signs were for candidates I have little interest in supporting - some I might even have a tendency to respond to somewhat viscerally. The thing is, by the time I hit the string of lawn signs, I was in a place where I was able to observe them with a breathtaking amount of equanimity (not to mention an ease with simultaneously observing my equanimity!). They were signs. With names on them. Huh.

The Buddha Machine - who knew? As cool as it is, I think I'll be careful/responsible about using this in a moving vehicle. Late nights, for example, would be right out. Nine hour car trips; also probably a bad idea. Respect the Machine.

Fig Finale

I ate the rest of the figs. I bought more figs. Lots of them. I am not going to pine over the perfect fig, nor am I going to live my fig-eating life in search of the next perfect fig. I am going to enjoy each and every fig as the fig that it is.

FYI: I did get one very bad fig. You couldn't tell from the outside, but it was FUN-KY on the inside. So, as I have not let the perfect fig ruin my fig eating, neither will I let the evil fig.

No attachment. No aversion. Just eating fruit.