He travels around with us in the Westy. My sister Jacquie gave him to me – gave him to all my sisters, and Mom and Dad, and me – after one visit that was marked by a few tense moments – mostly caused, natch, by me.She exhorted us to Be the Buddha.
To let our troubles slide off like so much water off a duck’s back.
To put our worries in a bubble and blow the bubble away.
She’s very Zen like that, you know.
So I try. I try to Be the Buddha.
Sometimes, though, it’s hard.
See this crane?
(Or wait, maybe it’s this one:) 
These cranes live across the Thames River from us, on the Groton side. Some nights one of them works into the wee hours, being the hard-working, productive crane it is. And when it works, it beeps. BEEP-beep, BEEP-beep. Its beeping keeps us up. We lie awake, perversely waiting for the next BEEP-beep, losing sleep and going stark raving mad in the process.
Be the Buddha.
I ride my bike to work -- and to the grocery store and to the beach -- and apparently I wear a superhero-like Cloak Of Invisibility while I’m riding. I almost get killed about 8 times a day, by drivers who don’t see me because I’m on a bicycle.
Be the Buddha.
We bought a
The birds love to bathe in the gutters that stay full of water days after it rains.
The downstairs has got 3 new, beautiful ceiling fans that circulate the cool air. The upstairs? To where the heat rises? And where we sleep? Fans? No fans.
Be the Buddha.
The oil tank? I think even the Buddha would have a hard time trying to Be the Buddha, dealing with the oil tank.
All this thinking about, and trying to Be the Buddha has gotten me thinking about ol’ Buddha himself.
Being the Buddha is a lot of responsibility for one smiling portly guy to carry.
While people all over the world are trying to Be, well, to Be Him, he sits there, with a smile on his face, never complaining, never making a peep.
You know how when you laugh so hard your face hurts and you have to stretch it to make it feel better? The Buddha just keeps on smiling . . .
And how about those legs? Don’t you think that after all those years The Buddha may have some circulation problems?
Don’t you think the guy would, every once in a while, just want to stand up and s- t- r- e- t-c-h?
Wait a minute . . .
Hold on . . .
Aaahhhhhhhhhh. Now that’s more like it…..
7 comments:
Man, I love that stretching budda. Such joy on his face. He is obviously SO much happier when stretching. (Me too.)
Awww, buddha is so cute! Mine sits on top of my computer monitor at work, he gets a lot of psychic action from me.
Love the cloak of invisibility, El. Great post
So when are you going to post about the "one visit that was marked by a few tense moments"? I'm intrigued. (I don't know, maybe it's just nosey.)
I would so like to be the Buddha. I would also like to be the crane operator. Can I be both??? ;-)
Yes, Jennie. Oh, wait. Yoga Girl 1 (Beth), meet Yoga Girl 2 (Jennie). Yoga Girl 2, Yoga Girl 1.
Anyway. If we had the Buddha as the Crane Operator, well then I think we'd be in business.....
My sister bought a little cordovan colored Buddha when we were in Mexico a couple of years ago. He's sitting contentedly on my desk as I write this, encouraging me to let the stress roll off of me like fog rolls off of the hills and into the sea.
This post is great. LOL Being the Buddha isn't easy... until one day it is.
Or so I hear.
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