Unconditional Love - Thought #1

Unconditional. Love.

These two words promise a lot and is usually associated to religion and mothers. They were words that were spoken to me by a spiritual seer of sorts (a psychic if you must) - she told me that my purpose in life is to teach the world about unconditional love.

Tall order.

And considering the current state of affairs, my response is: "Really?! Me? Really??? Really."

Huh.

The love that I have known has never been unconditional - neither from my mother or that which I've given to others thus far in my life. Even though Jesus seemed to love everyone unconditionally, he sure handed down a heavy bag of rules. If anything, Buddha had it pretty right on... loving life and not the egos of people.

It seems like there are always conditions in regards to love: "If this and then that". Love tends to be coupled with bias, ulterior motives, desire, fear... even naiveté and self-negation. Have I ever loved someone without thinking "Well, of course I love him because... [fill in the blank]"? Doesn't unconditional mean that there isn't a "because"?

In my world: value, references, research, facts, justifications, judgements drive nearly all our decisions and actions in life, love, career path, shopping habits, etc. So is unconditional love even something worthy of pursuit? Doesn't it just sound like a recipe for disaster? Or is it just some smart psychic's way getting me to leave a $20 tip on the table?

Or maybe unconditional love isn't to be blind or unthinking - maybe it means to be aware of all the factors, all parties, all possible outcomes (both wonderful and horrible), and make the conscious decision to love someone for the sake of their own self and the light they bring into your life.

Walking the Line

I've been thinking a lot about what it means to live a monastic life. Having my own space and more time to my own thoughts than what I know to do with, I've been even more contemplative than usual.

A Buddhist monk lives by two rules:

1. Chastity
2. Poverty

Unlike most other religions, Obedience is not a vow that Buddhist monks are required to take. Nor are they to commit to a single leader. It's expected for monks to be able to rule and govern their own spiritual path as well as physicial well-being. Spiritual and individual independence comes first.

"Vinaya is for the sake of discipline, discipline for the sake of freedom from remorse, freedom from remorse for the sake of relaxation, relaxation for the sake of rapture, rapture for the sake of calm, calm for the sake of bliss, bliss for the sake of samadhi, samadhi for the sake of insight and knowing things as they are, insight and knowing of things as they are for the sake of disenchantment, disenchantment for the sake of dispassion, dispassion for the sake of liberation, liberation for the sake of insight and knowledge of liberation, insight and knowledge of liberation for the sake of total unbinding without clinging." (Pv.XII.2)

During Buddha's lifetime, he and his disciples came up with 250 rules for the Vinaya, all created by circumstance and all with exceptions to the rule. Since Obedience wasn't a vow, no one was punished, but to break the Vinaya was a personal burden that a monk would have to carry on his own. For someone whose life is devoted to meditation and enlightenment, to do something "wrong" would require a personal penance to oneself - whatever that may be.

There have been way too many occasions in my past where I acted too impulsively and excessively. Had I just taken a step back at those critical points and reflected, I feel certain that my inner wisdom could have prevailed. But I was afraid of losing my nerve I guess - or afraid of losing the moment, so I rushed forward. Some lessons are only learned when the cold, wet pavement hits your face and your teeth fall out.

As I contemplate the next phase of my life, I will look inward for the path I need to take. And I think a few monastic vows to myself wouldn't hurt either.

BBQ for friends who don't have rich cottage friends

Our friend Brian Howe asked me to throw a BBQ on Friday night - just a small gathering of our close friends. So I sent out a sentinel of e-mails, fb messages and txt messages to gather the troops. Three hours later, he tells me he has been invited to a "mansion cottage" with his girlfriend for the weekend. Sorry.

Undeterred, I decided to throw the bbq for those of us who cannot escape to mansion cottages during these hot summer weekends.

Hosting is new to me since I've never really lived in a place that could accommodate what you'd call a "dinner party". It's almost an existential struggle when we do these things ever since we discovered Stuff White People Like... even though I'm not white which makes it doubly weird for me.

Girlfriends

They gathered around the breakfast bar while we gossiped as Leann cut up her beautiful melons (ugh bad and old joke that just won't die already) and I made a salad completely by hand. I.E. I tore every leaf into neat bite size pieces; cut and washed every plum tomato and strawberry individually. I realize that my method could not have been any slower, but I found the process rather therapeutic. I am beginning to understand why people enjoy cooking for others. Something to do with feeding the people you care about with more than just sustenance but also with your energy and love.

Boyfriends

When I wasn't being all domestimacated, I accompanied our friend Wes on the piano while he gave us a lovely rendition of Let it Be and Hallelujah. Two of the four songs I know how to play based on chords rather than straight sheet music (the others are Such Great Heights and Hey Jude).

Damage Done

• 2 lb rack of ribs
• 4 lb of hamburger meat
• 8 ounce steak
• 1 sausage
• 16 Burger-First PC hamburger buns
• 1 head of ice burg lettuce
• 1 box of plum tomatoes
• 1 box of strawberries
• 2 melons (cantaloupe and honeydew)
• 2 bottles of wine (white and red)
• 3 bottles of beer
• 3 strongbows

Always there is Nostalgia

One of the catches of dating a guy and subsequently having friends who are all in their late 20's or early 30's is the fucking nostalgia. Everything from TV shows, cartoons and most especially music, this demographic never gets tired of reminiscing on the pop culture that molded their infinitely complex and highly visual young minds.

I've given up on trying to catch up completely, but once again by the end of the night the remaining 7 of us sat around Ryan's music and media corner and compared the vast difference in music scenes between early 90's and late 90's, who could name the most obscure TV show from the 80's, and the new bands that old band members from old bands have started (Shannon Hoon sang backup for Axl Rose in GNR), ad nauseum.

Morning After

But I think my favourite part of these gatherings are the morning afters when Kellie and Greg stay to take part in our Sunday breakfast routine. Chef Ryan always delivers a lip-smackin' (and nutritious) breakfast and I'll put on a couple of episodes of Flight of the Conchords as we wind down from the week and savor the moments before Monday.

This morning I had the pleasure of watching Hedwig and the Angry Inch (2001) for the first time and I absolutely loved it! I'm really looking forward to the next time because the story has so many layers and textures and contexts which is unusual for a musical. Actually it's more of a rock opera.

The film so inspired me musically that I went out and bought a ukulele from Steve's on my way home to meet Mark for my music lesson. Not that I needed yet another distraction from my piano (as if 3+ pole dancing classes a week isn't enough), but the ukulele is portable and easy to pick-up, which makes for a good summer instrument for camping or playing in the park or balcony.

Meeting the Neighbours

After having anti-social and ill-mannered neighbours below us for the longest time, and then vacancy for over a month, we now have a new neighbour living in 168B. I met Josee this morning as she was hosing down our entry archway. French Canadian single-mom who's renovating the space below us by her self.

When we met her, she asked us if she wanted her to wash our door too. Ryan and I looked at each other kind of like do we WANT you to??? and not really sure how to say yes without feeling like we were ASKING her to. She saved us by saying, "Well, I might as well wash your door because if mine is washed and yours isn't, it'll look stupid." Fuck, I love her already.

Fluorescent Lights

So when I'm back at my desk tomorrow morning putting together a template for a market report card and discussing the US business acquisition strategy with my VP, I'll remember this weekend and know why I'm here at this place at this moment. I don't spend a lot of time wondering what it all means (blog posts to the contrary, but really), but nothing makes me feel more certain of my place in this universe than experiences like this.

it doesn't seem that long ago since we took this picture, but considering all the changes that's happened since that very day, we've all come a long way. what did we really know back then... about the condo market, career stress; work visas; salary negotiations; office politics; driving on the other side of the road; moving out of orangeville; love and even friendship.

the last is interesting because friendship in "adulthood" is vastly different than friendship of childhood or even university. trying to maintain friendships outside of a school setting becomes more and more difficult as life starts leading you into different directions. no matter how close you might live to one another - or how far away - doesn't necessarily determine whether the friendship survives the transitions of life.

in the past two months, i've had the incredible experience of reuniting with friends from as far back as elementary school; dinner with colleagues from the old porn days; kareoke with high school girl friends; coffee with industry mates; lunch dates to look forward to; dinner with CABBIES; the first unofficial Ultimate Book Club meeting; dinner parties with neighbourhood friends; etc.etc.etc.

it feels like spring brought with it an incredible tidal wave of familiar faces including MSN chats with my dad in China on some mornings. i wonder sometimes where we find the capacity to fill our lives with so many people when work and home demands so much from us alone. but these friends and family can draw from a bottomless well of love from me because they return the energy tenfold.

it feels so cliche to say that "life's short" - especially coming from someone who only just turned 24. but for some reason, i've always felt inexplicably old at times and not because i feel grown up... it's more like having a sentient experience of time where i can jump into a future where the pain of loss is just waiting for me. maybe everyone feels this way and doesn't want to talk about it.

there's no point in talking to it - borrowing yet another cliche "all things must end". i guess a part of me in the now is a bit outraged by the reality of it. why should things end when they are bursting with so much life, joy, beauty, love? it seems so bitterly unfair.

so i won't go on about it anymore. this is life in this very moment. we are all of us hyper-aware of this reality and what really gives me the courage to go on is the bravado of those around me. i've been fortunate to have met many individuals who rise to every occasion and i try to do the same in my own way.

i often like to think of my life as a book, or a drawing, or a piece of music... a giant snowball charging down a mountain gathering voices, thoughts, ideas, actions, creations, achievements and moments along the way. and i feel like i'm the snow that picks it all up, accepting what destiny has placed in my path as gifts rather than burdens.

i love the springtime.