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park slope, brooklyn

I have a simple question. First, the reason for the simple question. Last week in Park Slope, Brooklyn it was impossible to not notice mothers, fathers, and caregivers strolling babies. That’s fine; Park Slope is an almost ideal place for families. And, at the same time, a wonderful place for people of all ages on their own, or not.

It’s an etiquette fact that pedestrians stay on their right side. Understandably, in Manhattan it’s almost impossible to keep to that etiquette rule as it gets tricky because of the sheer number of people. When Manhattan is at its busiest it’s often necessary to play a little game of side-stepping.

Park Slope, however, should be very different. People are wanting a more laid back lifestyle from their next door neighbor, Manhattan. Park Slope suggests a stress free environment, and pure creativity in the form of small clothing shops (many by Brooklyn designers), consignment stores, exciting new small restaurants, take-away speciality food places, pottery, furniture, and painting workshops, wonderful small gift shops, the Brooklyn Museum, co-op gardens, the Botanical Garden, an easy ride to ever-evolving Coney Island, and green and gorgeous-looking Prospect Park for everyone’s pleasure, and that’s a partial list of goodies.

Now the simple questions: Why do people strolling carriages in Park Slope think it’s all right to push two (or three) side-by-side so that no one can pass from the back, or from the opposite direction? And why should a pedestrian who’s walking toward someone who’s pushing a carriage as if in a race, be required to quickly step to the side to let the serious pusher pass? Strolling with baby in a Park Slope setting should be, could be, nice.

They’re simple questions, maybe so simple that it’s not worth the time. But wait, there are a few important matters to consider: respect for other people, awareness of one’s surroundings, and teaching a toddler how to behave in public. Let the people pass; do it graciously, and don’t stress, enjoy the time with the little one.
The following website with its interesting name has a lot to offer: www.fuckedinparkslope.com

Now to change the subject . . . have an extraordinary day everyone!

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“To know how to live is my trade and my art.” – Michel De Montaigne

“The moment your attention turns to the now you feel a presence, a stillness, a peace.” -Eckhart Tolle

“I live for every present moment and don’t think about the future.” -Henry Schliemann (from the book The Greek Treasure by Irving Stone)

“May I always be in the right place at the right time to do as much good as possible.” -Raymon Grace

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camino de santiago

I’M OFF THEN by Hape Kerkeling
Have you ever thought about hiking the Camino de Santiago? – If you have or haven’t, I’M OFF THEN is a delightful travel book; it’s very funny and very honest. The writer freely shares what he’s feeling and learning, and the thoughts that arise on his spiritual journey. Questions come to him from out of the blue, and answers come when least expected. He meets people of all persuasions, a few become good friends, others he’d rather not have met. And the differences of one little village after another where pilgrims stay the night to seek food and refuge are noted, as are thoughts about the day’s hike.

Experiences differ greatly because everyone has their own reasons for hiking the camino. I’ve read that the experiences a hiker encounters on the pilgrimage are the ones needed, and that includes the people one meets along the way. To go alone seems quite brave. If the hiker is on a personal quest, then alone time tends to soothe the soul – after awhile. And there are always companions who come and go. At the end of the journey Santiago’s magnificent cathedral is there to greet the pilgrim.

The good and the not so good all sound wonderful to me because, when all is said and done, the experiences seem worth the tremendous effort it takes to hike the Camino de Santiago. Are you ready?

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I can’t imagine . . .

I can’t imagine what it’s like to be in Japan right now. What are people thinking about as they wait, wait for so many things: bare necessities, word about family and friends, about the air they’re breathing, the condition of their homes, the next hour, the next day. And wondering what’s happening, and what will happen.

Viewing a catastrophe from the other side allows for many questions, too. How is it possible to watch real time events from a distance, and not be affected by them? The problem with witnessing world events, as we do daily, – some pleasant, but mostly not – is that we are helpless to render much support. The period in which we live gives us the technology to watch suffering on a huge scale. What’s incompatible with the watching is that most of us will not, for different reasons, be able to lend a hand. To observe the amount of suffering that occurs throughout the world, and not be equipped to help, doesn’t seem natural. What then do we, the people, do with our compassion, our anxiety, our inability to be of help?

Sarcasm, humor, depression, restlessness, alcohol, drugs, sex are some of the ways we cope, and in the process try to disguise our feelings. They’re not solutions. What’s the answer then? We’re not going to eliminate technology so that we can slide back to a time when we were ignorant of global events. We can wish for a better world, but it won’t happen overnight. It’s been said that to find answers to challenges we have to focus on the solutions, and not the problems. Time after time we sit and watch cruelty displayed before our eyes – torture inflicted on innumerable innocent civilians, killings in all forms from wars and the aftermath of wars, dictators running amok – all kinds of intolerable suffering. And we watch suffering brought about by tsunamis, earthquakes, and yes, nuclear disasters.

What can we do to help? I think that prayer is a practical method that doesn’t get the recognition it deserves. For years I’ve read books, articles, and heard stories about the power of prayer, and the right way to pray. And until recently, none of it clicked for me, and so I didn’t give prayer the attention it deserves. Then one day I decided to buckle down and learn “what all the fuss is about,” and so I began reading, observing, and really listening to what those who have experienced the power of prayer were writing and talking about. It’s said that when the feelings of the mind match the feelings of the heart we connect to Cosmic Power (God). In new and used bookshops and in libraries, I found a wonderful array of books and magazines explaining the power of the heart and mind joined in prayer. We all have to find the book that sings to our heart. It’s a personal quest. That’s okay, discovery is a delightful part of learning.

So, in lieu of physically being able to help those in need, we can put our watches away for 20 minutes or so, twice daily, and quietly focus only on the Cosmic Power within. We let go of all worldly concerns and allow our heart and mind to join at the same frequency, then we pray and listen. It’s written in sacred books that that is where our Higher Self resides – waiting for us to respond to it. We practice praying in the same way we practice cooking, skiing, painting, driving, etc. – to be good at whatever it is we want to learn, we practice. To be a master, we practice over and over and over.

May the Creator of the universe guide, protect, direct, and guard the people of the world, especially those now in need of your help. Thank you.

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When I was first going to add to this entry, I had so much to say that I couldn’t say anything. I think the most truthful and balanced words I’ve heard in the past few weeks come from Japanese people themselves. They know they can rebuild and rebuild stronger and in a way that is more congruent with the world, so that they can flourish and bloom. That is how we should all look at every instance that appears to be a damage situation. There is always rebuilding. The world will never stop improving and reshaping and for that I am glad to be here. I continue to learn from other people’s amazing perseverance and ability to shine in all stages of life. -Emi

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the flow

Someone I know is in the flow. To watch is to be struck by the way it happens, struck by the series of events that line up in perfect order, seemingly with ease, for a most satisfying result. When we look beyond those events we can understand that there was a build-up of mental and physical focus and an aligning of heart and mind. We don’t have to agree with the result of what someone has achieved, but to watch it play out is to witness something extraordinary.

Maybe the reason we don’t all choose to consciously focus is that we get bogged down with our negative thoughts, and don’t realize their power.

When we feel we’re ready to experience being in the flow, we’ll need quiet time – there are a lot of ways to get from where we are to where we could be. When we listen in the quiet and trust, we’ll get there.

Being in the flow is a delightful inside job.

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A dialogue

In the movie Last Holiday, Queen Latifah www.queenlatifah.com is getting ready to bungy jump. She’s right there on the edge. That scene caught my attention because in the back of my mind I assumed it was something I could do. When I saw that scene the trip down looked mighty steep. So I asked myself, “Would you ever try bungy jumping?” Ah, a hesitation. “Why the pause?” I asked. “Hmm! Just the thought of it is a bit scary. It’s a long way down attached only to a thin cord.” I answered. Those words came rushing out. No doubt about it. Scared was the answer. That surprised me. I thought about it a little longer, and asked myself, “Would you do it even though you’re afraid?” Could I? Would I? “I suppose.” I answered, noticing a lack of enthusiasm, and continued, “I would be scared until it was over.” But I want to know, “Is that a yes?” This is getting tricky. “Okay. Yes, I could do it because after it was over, the feeling of exhileration would be absolutely wonderful.” I wasn’t so sure about this response. I kept asking, “Is that the truth?” “All right. All right. This is the final answer, no more questions, please. I”m not sure until I’m actually there.” Amen

Well! Good to know. I guess.

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ireland can sometimes be wet


Around the year 2002, I began traveling with lots of anxiety, lots of inexperience and a big suitcase. I took off into the friendly skies and headed for Ireland. I decided to go there for the simple reason that I had to make a decision, and, at that time in my traveling life, it seemed one place was as good as another. It’s a weak reason, but as it turned out, it was a good choice. I liked Ireland; the public transportation is efficient and convenient, English is spoken, Irish people are friendly and they are great storytellers, and there are stunning sites in Ireland. How can one go wrong? I’ll tell you how: not paying attention to the weather.

People would say, ‘Why didn’t you come last month? -That’s the best time.” Luckily, my hooded, long raincoat and a pair of shoes that could stand up to any downpour were perfect – most of the time. I will always remember Galway and Connemara for the times I was caught in heavy winds and buckets of rain. I was whipped into traveling shape with those experiences. And I remember exactly where I was when Venice popped into my mind. I was facing Galway Bay, walking from town to a B&B when the rains came. There was no place to go, and it felt like a beating. I was soaking wet, and when the worst was over I continued walking to the B&B. Along the way, I remembered reading about Venice in a thin book I’d bought at a shop in Galway, and I grabbed onto that thought. Venice? Why not?

I came through that traveling experience in Ireland intact, mostly due to the kindness of people I met along the way. Not that I made any effort to meet people. No. I was too busy keeping myself together dragging a big suitcase from one B&B place to another. The B&B package I’d bought Stateside made the trip a bit difficult because tourists from other countries had a similar package, and the owners of the B&Bs wanted money in hand, not a voucher. I don’t blame them. But because of this, I had to spent a lot of time on the phone inquiring about availability.

Maybe someday I’ll return to Ireland; it will be when the sun is shining, the days are warm, and people say, “You’re lucky. This is the best time to be here.”

www.abbeyleigh.net
www.buskerbrownes.com
www.kylemoreabbey.com
www.ontours.biz

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zabar’s and the apartment hunt

It’s a hot Monday. And a humid one. I promised to help someone find an apartment within the next six weeks. And so I will; I think. Manhattan in the summer with its concrete and crowds can be trying, but with its cafes it’s quite tolerable. The upper west side where I am now has many small interesting shops and really good eating places. The trick today is to focus on looking for an apartment and not fall into any shops. I watch one man walking pass me dressed in a suit jacket. He’s fading fast.

After a sixteen block walk, my shirt is soaked from the humidity, so I slip into Zabar’s at 2245 Broadway @ 80th Street, www.zabars.com and buy a “$4.98 Pastrami on classic rye, mustard, and mayonnaise on the side, a pickle and 70 years of experience.” That’s what the wrapper of my sandwich says. It also states, “New York is Zabar’s Zabar’s is New York” I linger a bit before purchasing the sandwich letting the air conditioning revive me. I think, yes, Zabar’s truly does belong to New York. Its customers know how to shove their way into any area to get what they want, and the cashiers give the customers a touch of service and no more. It’s all all right because where food is concerned, Zabar’s does it right.

I decide to not eat at Zabar’s corner cafe. I walk to 86th Street, then stroll east at Broadway checking in with the doormen along the way to inquire about apartments. The first doorman tells me that the rent begins around $2800 a month for a studio. I tell him that I will think about that. (Laughter is good for the heart. And now I have something really funny to laugh about when I get back to where I’m staying). After speaking to a few more doormen, I walk to Central Park and find a solitary bench where there is not much foot traffic. I open the wrapper and eat the pastrami sandwich. It’s tasty, but the sweat dripping down my back forces me to vacate my bench immediately after eating.

I walk west again on 86th Street and realize that I’m going nowhere fast. There’s a Starbucks on Columbus Ave and 86th Street. I open the door, and true to form, most of the customers have either a book, newspaper, computer or pen and paper in front of them. I buy a San Pellegrino water. I’ll be out the door in ten minutes, I promise myself as I sit at the one table left. It feels so good to be right where I am.

I hope that whatever you’re doing, you’re absolutely fine, too.