Tragedy, Bodhicitta, and Missed Connections

February 3rd, 2010 . Posted in life | No Comments »

Last weekend I received some devastating news.  I don’t much care to post about it here, but suffice it to say that my family and I were reminded that the human mind is a tragic, complicated, terrifying place.  Hearts and lives are broken.

I’ve been trying to take care of myself, despite my inability to sleep for a few nights after hearing the news.  My self-care process is a combination of crying when the mood strikes overwhelms, distracting myself with editing work & old episodes of Veronica Mars, going to yoga with one of my favorite teachers on the planet, and trying to allow each sensation of grief to arise, abide, and dissolve in its time.

In Buddhism, we believe in a person’s basic goodness, their Buddha-nature or bodhicitta.  Especially in the wake of tragedy, when recognizing bodhicitta can be especially difficult, it’s important to remember that all beings everywhere are fundamentally good.  The karmas that lead to the events that transpired…well, they can’t be qualified by the lives in which they manifest.  All we can do is perpetuate compassion and try to avoid giving rise to more non-virtuous karma, more suffering, by hardening our hearts to the reality of our painfully human condition.

So I’ve been reading “Missed Connections” on Craigslist.  What could MC possibly have to do with recognizing bodhicitta and coping with loss, you ask?  It’s no secret that I take a healthy dose of dharma cues from my time on NYC subways, and MC reminds me that my fellow subterranean passengers are searching just like me, seeking each other out for connections and meaning and heart-mind vibrations.  I feel like our culture has become so preoccupied with maintaining our steely facades, we’ve forgotten how to take action when our Buddha-nature starts to hum and our heart-mind reaches, reaches, reaches to connect with someone.  MC is a forum for slightly delayed reactions to this very human yearning, and as sappy as it may sound, it gives me hope.  If we could all find a way to recognize our sameness — our beautiful, perfect bodhicitta — we might not feel so alone.  We might have the courage to turn to each other instead of retreating to a place where we can’t be reached, where we deny our essential nature and reject the Buddha within.

Fair warning: There are a lot of not-so-noble, lust-driven, casual-encounter-esque posts on MC.  But if diamonds were easy to find, they wouldn’t be so valuable…right?  See some of my favorite posts from the NYC site this week, or find your city’s Missed Connections page here.

Contest Results, Boating, and the Truth About Where Your Dreams Will Take You

January 25th, 2010 . Posted in life | 2 Comments »
Tags:

So first things first: I love you all, but you kind-of fail at contests.  I’m keeping my mediocre blog-name until someone comes up with something excellent.  The only thing I’ve managed to think up = my secret Sanskrit name + a hackneyed play on a beloved HBO sitcom title.  No, I won’t tell you what it is and yes, I’m withholding as a display of my bitterness over the aforementioned contest fail.

It’s a gloomy day today in NYC, which affords me a chance to catch-up on my freelance editing work, which in turn affords me the opportunity to reflect on why I even have editing work to do in the first place.  Here’s the thing about being a yoga instructor:  it’s not something one does for the insta-cash.  Or the not-insta-cash.  Okay, it’s not something one does for cash, period.

If you’re like me, teaching yoga is something you do because you believe in the practice’s ability to transform suffering, and view teaching the practice as a way to live your Bodhisattva Vow.  Noble aspirations? Check. Money in the bank? [insert purposeful silence here].

Meaningful sidenote:  When I was younger, I spent countless hours in voice lessons and choral workshops, steadily preparing for my sure-to-be-imminent Broadway debut.  I never auditioned for community theatre, never worked backstage in school productions, and refused to take dance lessons.  I took up smoking, never practiced enough, and quit piano lessons.  But I kept dreaming. And guess where that got me?

Fucking nowhere.

Readers, I share this quaint anecdote because it’s time to cut through our delusions about dreaming. Dreams, passion, desire — it’s all totally worthless without hard work and the willingness to do whatever it takes to succeed.  Charging at life armed with nothing more than your super intentions and a smattering of passion is stupid and will get you exactly nowhere; charging at life armed with super intentions, passion, dedication to cultivating your craft, humility, determination, and an action plan might get you nowhere fast, but you’ll go somewhere.  Oh, you’ll go.

The very esteemed Buddhist teacher Chogyam Trungpa often wrote about “spiritual materialism” or “spiritual shopping,” our pattern of drifting from belief system to belief system in order to find what makes us feel good instead of what really leads us to spiritual truth.  He taught that in order to gain insight and move toward enlightenment, you have to pick one boat and stick with it, no matter what.  If you want to discover new worlds, you can’t hug the shoreline and have one foot dragging in the water; you have to strap on a life vest, pack supplies, and paddle until your arms feel like old Jell-o Wigglers hanging at your sides.

Dreams are like that too, I think.

This is all to say that I hope you dream really, extraordinarily big — I really do.  But more than that, I hope you have the strength and support and adequate levels of crazy to doggedly pursue the thing that makes you feel alive.  Make a plan.  Do the plan.  Give ‘em hell, and take what’s yours: a dream dreamed, a reality earned.

Facebook, Samsara, and a Contest You Should Enter

January 13th, 2010 . Posted in life | 3 Comments »
Tags: , ,

I canceled my Facebook account.  I know, I know — bold choice.

Sort-of.

See, I can’t figure out how to wholly cancel the account, since the evil masterminds so obviously intent on world domination over at FB sweetly suspended my account, with the assurance that the moment I log-in again (that’s when, not if), everything will be just as it was, as if I never left at all.

Social networking is a slippery slope, particularly if you concern yourself with things like egolessness, dissolving attachment, and breaking down the barriers between self and other.  On the one hand, social networks afford us the opportunity to connect with people in a way never-before possible and foster relationships without accord for spatial proximity or cultural barriers.  On the other hand, every keystroke on a profile or self-affirming “tweet” entangles us deeper and deeper in the samsaric mire.

What is samsaric mire? Well, samsara is a Sanskrit word often translated as “suffering,” though its meaning is more complex.  Samsara refers to the cycle of birth, death, and rebirth, and it’s filled with the suffering of ignorance, aging and sickness. Without getting too entrenched with samsara, suffice it to say that any ego-confirming practice — anything that makes us believe in the permanence of our human condition — contributes to the suffering that is samsara.

In a word: Facebook.

Just to be clear, I am continually justifying the existence of my Twitter account (@beccafaith742) because I use it to connect with lots of phenomenal Buddhists and yogis, people who make me laugh (follow @effedparkslope and @tremendousnews if you need to lighten up), and I think it helps direct some of you here, to the blog. Which brings me to my next point: the blog.

I started this blog because I read in an independent contractor tax-law book that having a web site helps prove to the government that your (wildly unprofitable) sole proprietorship is, in fact, a business. Ever notice that pesky “schedule” link in the corner? Or my “prices and policies” page? Yes, those exist because I am trying (“desperately” might be the right modifier here) to be a full-time yoga instructor. Do you see that IRS? Do you?? But I digress…

So I started the blog and I called it “Becca Faith Yoga” because, well, that’s my name + the word “yoga,” and it just made very good sense. But for the last few months, I’ve become increasingly bothered by my name at the top of the page. I hate telling people the web address, and I’m even a little embarrassed at the presumptuousness of  an eponymous title.

Hence, a contest:

  1. Re-name my blog. The new title should be relevant to the subjects treated here, so reading through some archives might be prudent. Kindly check to make sure your brilliant idea isn’t already a web site/blog.
  2. Post your idea in a comment on this post.
  3. At around this time next week, I’ll pick the title I like best and commence the domain-buying, name-switching nonsense. AND I’LL SEND THE WINNER A PRIZE. Depending on your practice, it will be either yoga- or meditation-related. Or not — you tell me. Whatever it is will be totally rad, natch.

I know this blog’s readership is relatively tiny, but let’s not make me feel like a total loser by NOT RESPONDING AT ALL, okay? I’ve already lost the personal affirmation of friend requests, “like” buttons, and heartfelt Happy Birthdays from people I haven’t seen since kindergarten, and I just don’t know how much more I can take.

Volunteering, and the Ultimate Answer to an Age-Old Question

January 11th, 2010 . Posted in NYC, life, meditation | No Comments »
Tags: , , ,

Since July, I’ve been volunteering weekly at a lower east side shelter that provides services and support to homeless, disabled New Yorkers and homeless victims of domestic violence. Every Friday, I run a yoga class attended by people working through a startling array of medical and social issues: Multiple Sclerosis, Lupus, multiple amputations, stroke recovery, cancer, and the list goes on and on. Diseases and disorders aside, what most of my students have in common is a history riddled with abuse and abandonment. And yoga.

Over time [read: as my artfully constructed class plans fulfilled their collective destiny of MASSIVE FAILURE], I arrived at a system that’s safe and fun and spontaneous and totally chair-bound, since limited mobility is a hallmark of many residents’ conditions. It goes something like this:

11:00: greet students. commence chit chat.

11:15: introductions, breath awareness.

11:20-40: asana, including seated sun salutations, rotation awareness, twisting, lateral bending, hand & arm mudras, and good old-fashioned shoulder rolls.

11:40-12: meditation.

This week I started our meditation practice the way I do every week, by asking each person to weigh in on the question, What is meditation? I wanted needed to share their responses verbatim, because…well, you’ll see:

Meditation is…

  • Concentrating
  • Thinking
  • Focusing on your breathing
  • Thinking without thinking
  • A process that makes your mind keen, so after meditation it’s like you can solve any problem
  • Dreaming

There was some backlash after one of my sweetest, sleepiest students suggested “dreaming,” and I’m not really sure what happened next because it all transpired in rapid-fire Spanish, but suffice it to say, “dreaming” got the axe. Still, this is an impressive suite of answers and did I mention that those top three responses came from first-time yogis??

Because I got such superb-o answers, I gave slightly more in-depth instructions than usual. After five minutes of sitting, we talked about our experiences and there was a mixed bag. Some people felt peaceful and focused, others were sleepy, and one of my most consistent students said it went really bad. That’s when we talked about how there’s no “right” experience; how some days, the mind will be spacious and big like a clear sky and other days, it will be completely clouded over and some days, it might feel like the whole universe is jumbled up inside your brain.

Then I had a conversation with a brand-new student, which I will humbly transcribe below in the hopes that we all find a way to be so sure, so steady:

Student: I’m gonna do this everyday.

Me: That’s a wonderful plan. And ambitious. It’s really hard to sit everyday, especially by yourself.

Student: No, I’m doing this everyday until I die.

Me: Would you like to share your experience with us, so maybe we all try to sit everyday?

Student: This is the first time in my life that I could think one thought. The first time in my life. I have to do it. It’s good.

Me: It is good. It is really, really good.

_________________________________________________________

To volunteer your time as a yoga instructor, click here.

To read more about Barrier-Free Living, or to offer your support, click here.

Resolutions, Wind Advisories, and Gardening in January

January 4th, 2010 . Posted in dharma, life | 1 Comment »
Tags: , ,

There’s been a severe wind advisory posted in New York for the last few days, and I can’t think of a more apt weather condition for ringing in the new year. Since many of us make a special effort to enact our resolutions in these first weeks of January, it seems right to me that the “winds of change” are blowing through with so much force.

But there’s something else. These winds? They’ll eventually die down. And unfortunately, a lot of our resolve will, too.

So how do you keep the momentum of change going once the wind has quieted to a whisper?

I have no idea. Seriously, I don’t know. But I’ve been reading Turning the Mind Into an Ally by Sakyong Mipham, and I’m pretty sure he’s got it all figured out:

The problem for most of us is that we’re trying to grow a flower on a rock. The garden hasn’t been tilled properly…It doesn’t work to just throw some seeds on top of the hard ground and then hope for the flowers to grow.  We have to prepare the ground, which requires effort.  First we have to move the rocks and hoe the weeds. Then we have to soften up the earth and create nice topsoil…[we are] creating the space for our garden to grow. Then we can cultivate qualities that will allow us to live our lives in full bloom.  (7)

I think Sakyong Mipham really speaks to why New Year’s Resolutions notoriously fail; we try to make big changes without preparing ourselves for what’s coming. Most of us wouldn’t expect a long-time smoker to quit by saying “1…2…3…QUIT!” but that’s exactly what we’re doing by trying to effect change on January 1st.

What if we all decided to take January to prepare our soil and gather our seeds? Instead of commencing a starvation diet and over-zealous exercise plan, why not take extra time to plan meals, set goals for staying hydrated, and start to go for 20-minute walks 4 times a week? Or maybe instead of chaining yourself to a desk to bang out the Great American novel, why not start journaling this month to get into the swing of writing daily? And if you want to kick that nasty cigarette habit for good, why not dispense with the frigid poultry and start rationing your intake gradually, one day at a time?

If we just throw a handful of seeds at the frozen, winter-worn soil, these winds are gonna blow it all away. But if we find a way to thaw the ground and lovingly place each kernel in the earth…something beautiful just might grow.

NYE, Canapes, and (Not) Being a Fuddy-Duddy

December 29th, 2009 . Posted in life | 2 Comments »
Tags: ,

I really hate New Year’s Eve.

I don’t like big crowds, especially not drunken ones, and I’m not such a fan of loud noises, either.  Big, drunk crowds, loud noises, and a sparkly ball that doesn’t actually herald anything remotely to do with time…ugh.  Holidays of renewal used to be about birth and ritual impregnation of young women and the moon cycle. Not anymore. Now it’s all empty rituals and booze and the highly unritualized impregnation of some young drunk thing.

Holidays in New York are particularly heinous because people flock here to be drunk and crowd-y.  Remember Halloween? I can only imagine that Times Square is 8 trillion times worse than anything I’ve experienced, and will continue to merely imagine it since hell and the highest water could never get me within 10 20 23 subway stops of all that madness.

In my perfect world, I would spend December 31st cooking adorable canapes and puffs, and slicing fruits for delectable cocktails featuring sparkling wines and pomegranate. I would clean my house, borrow chairs from our neighbors, and spend a ridiculous amount of time on my hair. People would come over. We would eat, drink, feel extremely merry, maybe play a game or two. The ball would drop. I’d bring out the chocolate-covered strawberries, a little port or liquor, make some coffee for a hot toddy. Basically it would be the greatest NYE of all time. Ever.

This Thursday evening, I will certainly find myself in an overcrowded-is-an-understatement, overpriced-was-$10-ago bar with my boyfriend and his brother and his brother’s girlfriend. There won’t be canapes or puffs or pomegranates anywhere.

And I think I’ll be perfectly content.

I have a history of being a fuddy-duddy about parties. You can tell that that’s true because only fuddy-duddies use the term “fuddy-duddy.” I don’t like crowds. I never feel like I have the right clothes. Drunk people annoy me (yeah, that DOES include drunk me, and mmhmmm, I DID think of that). But this year, after slipping into my traditional fuddy-duddy-ness, I woke up to a very important fact: I’m totally full of shit.

Something I’ve learned this year is that most experiences are more terrifying and horrific in my mind than they are in real life (e.g., driving on the FDR, signing a lease with my boyfriend, paying a bill late (it totally wasn’t my fault, Time Warner, just to be clear)). So I have to believe that if I got out of my own way and just embraced the whole, crazy mess life brings, I’d be a happier, more fearless, less fuddy-duddy-ish person.

I still think a class-tastic party at home is a phenomenal NYE option, and someday I will have it my way. But for this year, I’m closing ‘09 and welcoming ‘10 (OH-ten? Are we doing that?) with an open mind and softened heart, even if it means an emptier wallet and the inevitable violation of my personal comfort zone.

Happy New Year, everyone. Don’t be a fuddy-duddy.

A Holiday Contemplation

December 23rd, 2009 . Posted in Mind the Mind, dharma, life | No Comments »
Tags: , , ,

Later today I am taking a train to PA to be with my mom, whose broken toe has metamorphosed into cast-and-crutch-inducing nerve damage. That’s reason #1 why I am posting an excerpt from His Holiness the 14th Dalai Lama’s book, Healing Anger: The Power of Patience from a Buddhist Perspective in lieu of a regular post. Reason #2 has something to do with the fact that nothing I write about dharma will ever be as elegant, intelligent, or complete as what HHDL writes. And reason #3 is that I’m genuinely interested in how all of you reconcile your Eastern and Western practices at this seductively glittery, well-decorated, present-laden time of year?

Q: Is it possible for a professed Christian to also take a Buddhist vow? I am a very committed Christian, indeed an ordained person, and yet there seems a compatibility and congruence in my understanding of the teaching of Jesus and that of the Buddhist path of spirituality which would allow assent to both, and practice of both Buddhism and Christianity, as they are pointed toward light, the path of truth, love, and freedom. ne of the teachers in my life has been Thomas Merton, a Catholic priest and monk, and a practitioner of Buddhism.

A: Of course, there are many common elements among all major world religious traditions.  Therefore, I believe, at the intial stage one person can practice both Buddhism and Christianity simultaneously, and perhaps some other religions as well.  I think that is very good.

But the question is when one reaches further.  Then it is like in the field of education: when one becomes a specialist, then one has to choose one particular field.  In the further practice of Buddhism, when one reaches a certain stage, the realization of emptiness is one of the key aspects of the path.  The concept of emptiness and the concept of an absolute Creator, I think, are difficult to put together.  On the other hand, for the Christian practitioner, the Creator and the acceptance of the Creator as almighty, is a very important factor within that tradition in order to develop self-discipline, compassion, or forgiveness and to increase them in one’s intimate relationship with God.  That’s something very essential.  In addition, when God is seen as absolute and almighty, the concept that everything is relative becomes a little bit difficult.  However, if one’s understanding of God is in terms of an ultimate nature of reality or ultimate truth, then it is possible to have a kind of unified approach…

As to one’s personal religion, I think this must be based on one’s own mental disposition.  that is very important.  So I tell people that as a Buddhist monk I find Buddhism is most suitable to me.  This does not mean Buddhism is best for everyone.  That is clear.  For other people, the Christian, Muslim, or  Jewish tradition, a tradition which is based on Creator theory, is more effective, that’s certain.  So it is very, very important to follow religion according to one’s own mental disposition.

…Generally speaking, I think it is better to practice according to your own traidtional background, and certainly you can use some of the Buddhist techniques.  Without accepting rebirth theory or the complicated philosophy, simply use certain techniques to increase your power of patience and compassion, forgiveness, things like that.

…An important thing to remember is that once you change your personal religion, there is a natural tendency, in order to justify your newly adopted religion, to take a critical view toward your previous religion.  This is very dangerous.  Although your previous religion may be unsuitable or ineffective for you, at the same time, millions of people may still get benefit from that tradition.  So we must respect each other’s individual rights.  If it is their belief, and millions of people get their inspiration from it, we must respect that.  And there are many reasons to do so.

~ The Dalai Lama, Healing Anger

Snow Lion: Ithaca, 1997. pp 69-71.


So…egg nog, anyone??


Finding Self, Dissolving Self, and a Question of Authenticiy

December 17th, 2009 . Posted in dharma, life | 2 Comments »
Tags:

So…AUTHENTICITY.

On two separate occasions in the last week, my authenticity has been called into question. Weird, right?

The first occurence constituted someone telling me that my clothes are off-puttingly neutral and that I “don’t have to be on the yoga channel all the time.” Then, a few days later, I was told that the way I move my eyes & turn my head while teaching yoga is too copy-catty.

Commence collective eyebrow-raise.

I’m not going to respond to these accusations (?) individually for two reasons: 1. I am trying to believe that these comments came from a place of compassion, and 2. what the WHAT?! How do you respond to that??

The bigger issue, for me,  is a question of authenticity.  If Buddhism and yoga practice share a common aim of dissolving the idea of “self,” how do we develop an authentic presence?

I can’t actually answer that question, though I’m sincerely hoping that some of you will offer your thoughts.  What’s been turning over again and again in my mind is this: What if we started accepting one another as 100% authentic? Obviously I’m not suggesting that we decide to get collectively duped by every smarmy sleaze-fest trying to sell us something, so don’t start ranting about my raging naivete. What I’m talking about is a mutual understanding of how hard we’re all trying to figure ourselves out.

One of the most excellent things about being an adult is looking back on pictures of your youthful self and laughing at how ridiculous your wardrobe and styling choices were. But I bet if you went back in time and asked six-year-old Becca why she wore a sky-blue, tie-dyed, glitter-accented-floral-print-applique shirt to school at least twice a week, she’d have a really excellent response that would have nothing to do with hiding a muffin-top or complimenting her skin tone. She probably just liked loved it. Pure and simple, 100% genuine.

The older we get, the more we doubt our innate ability to express ourselves to the world. We get so wrapped up in how our choices will be interpreted by everyone else, we stop acting from a place of authentic presence. But what if we gave each other a break? What if we could decide that whoever is in front of us is exactly who they are, with no put-ons and no hollowness? We could put down our torches and pitch-forks and just be with each other instead of perpetually trying to stab holes in the armor we assume everyone is wearing.

Until then I’ll be swathed in day-glo, hunting for a more honest way to move my eyeballs inside my skull.

Impermanence, Birthdays, and a Really REALLY Big Idea

December 8th, 2009 . Posted in life | 2 Comments »

I HAVE AN IDEA.

WELL, I HAD AN IDEA.

Birth of the idea THE IDEA:  On my birthday last year, I was sitting at my desk eating chocolate-covered strawberries (thanks, D-cer!) when it suddenly occurred to me that no one had asked me that painfully un-answerable question, “How does it feel?” in regards to my new, one-year-older status.  I realized that adults don’t ask other adults this question because we don’t want to face the answer, which is “It feels shitty.” I’ve never been someone to rue getting older, but I certainly understand the logic behind not wanting to celebrate the body’s slow and inevitable demise and our plodding advance toward death. I learned in a cultural anthropology class that the tradition of showering people with cards and gifts and cakes-on-fire emerged from the belief that a person is most susceptible to demons & danger on the anniversary of his birth; surrounding the birthday person with symbols of our affection is a way to ward off said demons & danger, who will balk at taking on such a raucous group of cake-eating, punch-sipping gluttons. I digress!

I decided to put the question (“How does it feel?” — keep up with me people!) to the test. I wrote myself a letter. At the top, it says something like THINGS THAT ARE IMPORTANT TO ME ON MY BIRTHDAY (2009), and is a page-long shout-out to all of the things I was worried / happy / sad / frustrated / excited about in that moment. I sealed it up and mailed it to myself with warnings on it like DO NOT OPEN UNTIL FEBRUARY 20, 2010 and, upon receipt, I hid said letter behind a Bed Bath & Beyond coupon in my mail sorter. I plan to do just as the envelope says and open it up on my birthday and see if anything I cared about last year still applies. It’s an exercise in impermanence, to be sure, and I am hoping it will help teach me a valuable lesson about the futility of playing into our daily dramas.

Relevance of THE IDEA: I’ve noticed a lot of folks getting real uppity about the holidays. It’s a stressful time. There are presents to buy, parties to attend, family gatherings, travel…it’s a lot to do, and it all costs money, and it all involves the blessing-curse of lots of time with family. Like I said: stressful.

Application of THE IDEA: When you are at your wit’s end and you think your holiday-filled head will explode, sit down with a cup of tea (or chocolate-covered strawberries) and make a list. You can call it whatever you want, but I recommend a highly generalized title so you don’t feel restricted (e.g., IMPORTANT SHIT XMAS 09). Start writing. Don’t think about what you’re writing, no matter how petty or trivial it seems. Heavy things (relationships, illnesses, metaphysical crises) can mingle with your grocery list, gifts you still have to buy, an argument over dirty socks you had last night. Just get it all out. Place your list in an envelope (tucking it into a holiday card would be a nice flourish), address it to yourself, plaster the envelope with warnings, place an actual stamp on that thing and mail it.

The first happy realization comes when you open your mailbox and find the envelope 3 days later and discover you’ve already forgotten half of what you wrote. Resist the urge to rip it open and remind yourself. Hide that shit somewhere out-of-sight, and set a reminder on your phone or in your planner for a day in December, 2010 (don’t forget to list the envelope’s whearabouts).

I’ll be opening my envelope in February and will share the entire contents of the letter with you when the time is right. I honestly can’t remember a single damn thing on that list but I really can’t wait to do a year-to-date review. I get a giddy, child-like feeling just thinking about sliding the paper out of its cocoon to reveal its now-defunct, totally irrelevant contents.

Just think: by this time next year, future-you could be considerably less stressed because present-you will have reached out from the past to smack your now-present-self in the face with the truth of impermanence. Bring on the egg-nog — there’s finally something to celebrate!

Bro vs. Buddhist: A Middle Way Conundrum

December 3rd, 2009 . Posted in life | 1 Comment »
Tags: , ,

Last night at around 8:30, I found myself walking home from the first OM Yoga Knit n’ Sit of the 2009-10 winter season. I live in a mildly liminal ‘nabe: south of the retail & restaurant district, north of the purely residential part of town, west of the industrial complexes and east of the swanky Prospect Park brownstones. Still, it’s an okay part of town where stroller-pushers and hipsters make room for one another on the sidewalk. Neat.

So it’s 8:30 and I’m hobbling home under the weight of a huginormous purse, an oversized canvas bag filled with scrap yarn, and a wool pea-coat that’s making feel claustrophobic. I’m chatting with a friend on my headphones because I’m newly terrified of iPhone-induced brain cancer. I’m feeling good.

I notice a Bro’ walking toward me. You know a Bro’ when you see him: co-dependence on his BroBerry, striped oxford shirt, dark washed (but distressed!) jeans and a jaunty swagger. It’s okay to have aversion to a Bro’ — we all understand.

This particular Bro’ seemed to be walking in a diagonal line toward me instead of maintaining our parallel paths on the sidewalk, which made me raise my eyebrows but I figured he was just trying to avoid some Bro’-repellent, like a child or a committed relationship or work outside of the financial sector.

And then, before my Bro’-dar alarms could finish peeling a warning blast, he gets THISCLOSE to my face and plants an air-kiss somewhere in the vicinity of my very very VERY personal space. He made contact with the entire left side of my body. I could smell him.

I would like to say that things like this don’t get to me. I’d like to tell you that when someone flashed me on the street four years ago, I didn’t contemplate jumping into traffic to get away from him; or that when a man decided to start pleasuring himself while staring at me on the M train two summers ago, I didn’t cry for days. I’d like to tell you that because I’ve taken over 100 hours of self-defense training — including an entire course on how to utilize and neutralize common weapons — that I never felt afraid or victimized. I would really like to say (and mean) all of those things.

What I can say with certainty is that d-bags like the Bro’ get their rocks off by instigating a single instant of intimacy in which they have all the control. The rules for coping with this kind of animal are simple: obliterate his sense of privacy by drawing attention to what he’s just done and shaming him so thoroughly his skeevy erection crawls back into his body, withers, and dies.

I said some very non-Buddhist things. I won’t repeat them here, but suffice it to say I used a series of colorful expletives, suggested a timely suicide, called his mother a whore, and questioned the masculinity of someone too weak to turn around and let ME violate HIS space.

I got home and cried about it. Here’s the kicker: I felt guilty for yelling at him. I told myself I should have more self-control, less violence in my heart. Then I told myself to shut the eff up and practice the cultivation of ninja-like reflexes so that next time, I can reach his jugular (or at least his BroBerry) before he has time to scurry back underground where he belongs.

My question to all of you is this: How in the world do you find the Middle Way when the road is littered with Bros?

« Older Entries