These are a few of my favorite things...I hear Mr. Coltrane blow out.
After much debate, speculation, pondering...the mystery is over. The cord that has engrafted is the cord from the girl (we call her Butterfly)...She was born in St. Paul, sometime, somewhere, This is all I know of the little girl that is saving my life...giving me more time with all of you in this beautiful world. Not a few minutes old and already she is a hero, already she has done more than most accomplish in an entire lifetime. Her gift (which is, of course, as much from her mother,
lecture [please, if you are pregnant and your doctor talks to you about saving your cord blood and such, please do NOT do it. Please donate it, this precious blood is needed now, by many people...you will directly be saving a life. Not only is saving your own cordblood extremely expensive, but it stagnates research that could be done while saving a life. Every transplant that we do with cordblood, we learn and we have a lot to learn. The research/data/insight gained by your donation(even if the recipient dies) catapults our knowledge about cancer that far outweighs any benefit you or your child could gain from keeping this gift...please, please, please donate your cordblood...please; lecture over] is truly awe-inspiring. Her cells did not care that I like Bruce Springsteen more than I like Bob Dylan, she didn't even ask what religion I belonged to, if any, whether I was black, or gay, or republican. She just said, "here, if you need, I can help". Man, imagine, if life really were that simple. What if every thought was for others. What if we centered our life around just helping others...not oh you are having a hard time, let me teach you something, or pray with you, just you need it, I got it. I am not pollyannish, or at least not trying to be, but just thinking about this gift, reminds me that it really doesn't matter...you know, not really. It doesn't matter that I have these core beliefs that help
me to navigate
my world, so that
I can bring some happiness to
myself and everyone
else, that
I can. All that matters is love, right?
I think we can all get along. I have been very unoptimistic about this world. Both in a very personal sense, but also in a more universalistic/global way. I looked out (do look out)and see much misery, much of what is wrong. Right now I could list a hundred things, that are worrisome to me...problems, real problems that need to have real solutions. From the miniscule (I spilled some cake on the keyboard), to how Sara and I have to constantly be vigilant about my medications and how they affect my body and moods, to my family going through rough times, to my best friend Steve strecthing his heart thin over his children, to living in country at war that does not seem to be stopping, but expanding, what does this mean? how does this change our basic principles? can we change them now? what is America?, to the multiple clashes of civilizations in every corner of the world, that touches every aspect of humanity...I could go on and on, and this does not even include the interior realm of existence.
I have never been a pessimist...yet I have never been an optimist...Sometimes I think George Carlin got it right when he said a cynic is just a disheartened or disillusioned optimist. But there are moments, even amongst the pain, the gruel, the hatred, that love shines through, that glimmers of hope shine like a flash of lightening through the darkness, that jar me back into reality...NO, there is goodness, the nature of humans is to be good (again, what does that mean). A while back, Barbara Walters had this special on heaven. In it she examined what heaven means to many different people, from scientists, to Jewish people, to Muslims, to various strains of Christianity. She also interviewed His Holiness the Dalai Lama. I will not go into his discussion, but one of her questions keeps coming back to me. Despite the obvious conflicts when discussing a topic like heaven in a Tibetan Buddhist context, she asked him whether he thought the world was closer to heaven or to hell. Most religions I know of, well most of the major ones, speak of this time as being particularly far from where we want to be. Glaring example, the Fall, others-Hinduism speaks of the cycles of existence...again from heavenly to degenerate. This is true to Buddhism as well. There was a time when enlightened beings flourished and just being hearing a syllable from these beings one could instantly gain enlightenment. When she asked, I assumed he would just say closer to hell, but he didn't! With the confidence of a Buddha, without a moment's hesitation he rang out, "oh, much closer to heaven, much closer." Wow! I keep coming back to it. Much closer, much closer...I can hear my teacher's voice clearly! If my teacher can look out on our world and conclude that we are 'much closer' wow, why can I not? Are we looking in two different places? No. I am not using my full sight...I am using JJ glasses. Well, now I got a new pair of eyes.
Butterfly.
Ahh, Butterfly.
Butterfly gave me Tuesday Febuary 7, and I hoping the 8th. How do you thank someone for everyday. Everyday, I can chose to use love or chose to use hatred, I can chose to be selfish, or I can chose to be othercentered. I can chose to use my precious human existence or I can squander it. What would you do with such a gift? Butterfly is not putting any restrictions on the use of her immune system, nor is she gauranteeing me anything. I did not have to sign a contract saying that I would smell the roses and never be mad or sad, I did not have negotiate a certain amount of time that I could use her gift. I am going to make many mistakes, everyday. Today, later I will likely snap at my beloved Sara, perhaps we will get into an arguement. I may hurt my mother by something I say. I might die. The gift, butterfly has given me is this opportunity. I can only hope that I can bring more happiness than sorrow; more love than hatred; more compassion and more impartiality.
It is late and I am falling asleep at the computer.
Love,
JJ
PS Here's to hoping that this makes sense at all. I am too tired to read it.
