A Meeting of Buddhas

Buddhas have gathered on the dining room table in preparation for moving. Even in this collection of statues, you can appreciate their different Buddha energies. I had never really noticed this before they decided to gather . If my father were alive he would probably wander through the dining room and say something like, "they look like they're waiting for a bus."

When I look at them I can appreciate the solid, grounded, earthiness of the large concrete one, in a way I never noticed before. The smaller ones in the foreground seem delicate and deeply serene, especially the one I painted in a bronze-like finish. And then there is my fat, happy, orange Buddha. What can I say? He always makes me smile. And I love the way the sunlight bounces off his shiny orangeness. And then there is the delicate brass Thai style Buddha, sitting on the ginger grater shyly in the background.

The moving Buddhas remind me of the changes swirling around. Sometimes I can go with it and sometimes I am trying to hang on like a kid on a merry-go-round. Sometimes I just feel a little terrified and want to pull the covers up over my head. Although we won't be far away I am starting to look wistfully at the landscape of the city. Yesterday we remembered that we have lived here in this city for 30 years! Where do the days go? No wonder the Buddha told us "to work out our salvation with diligence." We so easily drift along in the dream of time, imagining it as endless or not thinking about it at all.

The first boxes of things will make their way to Salt Spring today as we go over to visit and finalize the details on the home we will rent starting in April. Impermanence is busting out all over. Boxes are everywhere. Little piles of chaos inhabit many surfaces. What to do with this? Or that? Many objects have made their way to various new homes. Beware of the approaching me, I will try to give you some stuff! Lots of movement. And outdoors is no different, the daffodils are filling the yard and ornamental cherry and plum trees are in full blossom. The new crocosmia are shooting up through the old brown dried ones from last fall. They are fine with that. The old mixing with the new. The new pushing effortlessly and perkily forward. Perhaps I should take my cue from them. No problem, just new life replacing old as it always does. Drop the story and be free!