Author: SomatiCat

Dogs Keep a Promise

Posted on by SomatiCat

DogskeepaPromise

Last night I talked a woman through putting her unconscious dog to sleep.  She is somebody I constantly bumped into in Central Park when I took my dog for a weekend morning off leash walk, a doggy friend, not a human friend.  We never saw each other without dogs.  My dog passed about a year ago.  Since then, I haven’t seen her.   That’s how it works.  People with dogs and people without dogs occupy separate worlds in the city.

She was one of those people who lived for their dogs, who won’t leave their dog alone more than a couple of hours.  One of us who don’t trust people, but trust dogs.  One of us who learn what love feels like for the first time through our dogs.

Her dog had a cancer surgery and came back home O.K.  Then suddenly the dog collapsed and lost consciousness.

I’ve been there.  My dog had a brain tumor and one day suddenly collapsed at the ripe age of 14.

She knew there are no options but one.  She just needed confirmation from somebody else.  She had already spent 10 hours in the hospital waiting for her dog to regain consciousness.

Most of time, we know what we should do, and still sometimes we need to convince ourselves to do.  We get  trapped in the fear of should have, could have, might have.  What we need is somebody who hear what we can’t say and mirror it back.

She said she wanted to follow her dog.  I told her I felt the same way. But then after one year I still feel my dog’s love saturating my life on a nice spring day.

Dogs keep a promise a person can’t.
–Dr. Bloom.
A quote from Hannibal by Bryan Fuller

 

The Mysterious Chinese Herb Shop

Posted on by SomatiCat

Every large city has its own Chinatown.  New York City has one.  I went to see my herbalist there today.   The shop is accessible to non-Chinese speaking ordinary Americans.  The lady at the counter speaks fluent English and the herbalist does, too.   It’s a kind of no-nonsense store you won’t walk in to browse.  You need to know what you want.   It’s a traditional chinese medicine version of your corner pharmacy.  Most Chinese customers bring in prescriptions for herbs.

stairs“Is Doctor in?”  I asked the lady.  “Upstairs” the lady said.  I passed the long dispensing counter, where several men were eating lunch, to the back, and opened a door to staircase. The first time I ventured in, it was intimidating in a Diagon Alley kind of way.  It’s not anymore.  The herbalist’s office was on the second floor next to accupuncturists office.

They keeps my chart, just like my physical therapist’s office does.  Sometime I see other patients waiting, most of the time not.

In the office, the Herbalist took my pulse on BOTH wrists.  I don’t understand what he is doing but definitely he is not counting my heartbeat.

The Doc asked many questions, like “How is your bowel movement?”  “How do you sleep?”    He told me to stick my tongue out.  He wrote something in Chinese on the chart, then asked another question.  “Do you like cold weather or hot weather?”   And he pondered and scribbled down more.

He handed me my chart and instructed me to go downstairs to get 10 days supply of herbs.  I asked what was wrong with me.  He mumbled something like “Liver and Spleen weak.”  O.K. whatever, Doc.

I walked down the stairs and handed the chart to the lady.  They have a floor to ceiling old school pharmacy built in cabinet.  A couple of guys started to put together the combinations of herbs in the prescription in an amazing speed and coordination.

herbpackage

Herbs come in packages.  One pouch contains about 10 different kind of herbs.  Some herbs are more expensive than others.  I never got itemized receipt so I never know.  I usually pay between $90-$100 for 10 days of supply including Doc’s fee.

Today’s pouch contains:

  • COIX TEA
  • White Atractylodes tes
  • Codonooposis tes
  • Pyrola tea
  • Albizzia tea
  • Schisandra Tea
  • Alisma Tea
  • Ilex Cornuta Tea
  • And a couple of other mystery herbs if you don’t read Chinese.

herbtea

Those powdered herb make one mean tea.  I sip it throughout the day for 10 days. I go through this 2 or 3 times a year as part of body maintenance routine.  When I feel something is off, it is my way to pay attention to what my body want to tell me.  The effect is mostly subtle.  After 10 days, I usually forget what my major complaint was.  Once in a while, it works like a magic.  Who knows.  I like the taste fo the tea.

I once went to a different herbalist.  The place was much cheaper but I had to actually boil crushed leaves and make real tea.  As a New Yorker, I didn’t have that kind of patience.  My grandma used to plant, grow, harvest, dry, cut, boil and make tea…  Good old days.

Disclaimer:  I don’t speak Chinese, but I studied Traditional Chinese Medicine 101 in college.  So I actually have some vague idea about what the hell the doc is doing.

If you are interested in How Tranditional Chinese Medicine Works,  visit:

http://health.howstuffworks.com/wellness/natural-medicine/chinese/traditional-chinese-medicine.htm

 

A Pigeon and Dandelion

Posted on by SomatiCat

What’s wrong with the girl who kicked at a pigeon?

A group of teenage girls were walking down the street.  It was an early afternoon in the late spring.  A couple of city pigeons were picking up pizza crust scraps on the sidewalk in front of a neighborhood pizza place.   An ordinary pleasant day in a relatively quiet street in Upper East Side.

As they pass by a girl in a plaid skirt kicked at a pigeon.  The pigeon trotted away.   “What’s wrong with you?”  “Gross!”  other girls said.  The girl who kicked at the pigeon didn’t say anything. They walked on, talking as ordinary teenage girls did.  Nothing noteworthy happened.  Just another day in their teenage life.

It was a five second clip too familiar for me not to pick up from the cutting room floor.   It was the nonchalant way the girl kicked at the pigeon that caught my attention.

I was the girl who kicked at pigeons.

When I saw a yellow fluffy dandelion flower on the sidewalk, I stepped on it to squash with the heel of black pumps.  My friend said, “What’s wrong with you?”

I tell you what’s wrong.  That’s how the girl is treated in her family.  That’s how she has learned to treat herself.  It’s so natural that she doesn’t even think something is wrong with the way she reacts to the sight of pigeon, a vulnerable and unimportant creature just doing what pigeons do.  Nobody cares.

The sight of innocent and vulnerable creatures like pigeons and dandelions exposed and defenseless made me feel uneasy.  It’s dangerous to be innocent and vulnerable in the open without fangs and claws to fight back.  I can’t tolerate the prospect of the pigeon-dandelion being attacked, being kicked, being squashed.   So I will be the one who kicks and squashes, so that I don’t have to feel my vulnerability.

I hope the girl who kicked at a pigeon will learn what is wrong is the way she has been treated.

And dandelions are not vulnerable.

dandelion

 

 

Sliver

Posted on by SomatiCat

For the most of my life I tried to fit the expectations of others. For the most of my life I tried to make others fit my expectations. My Teacher said, “Remember, not all people operate in the same way you do. ” It has freed me from the misery endless expectations create. I can’t change how you respond. But I can let you know how I am affected by your response. The rest is up to you.

Sliver

This is how I am. Deal with it. Or if not, leave me where you found me, and walk away.

This is how you are. I deal with it. Or if not, I’ll leave you where I found you, and walk away.

It’s not your fault.

It’s not my fault.

It’s just that this is how I am.

And this is how you are.

That’s how we all should be.

And some of us still keep on feeling our way for a sliver of connection in the treacherous territory between how I am and how you are. Continue reading →

Art of Tea

Posted on by SomatiCat

There are so many people to whom I said, “See you later,” and whom I have never seen since.
Some passed away, others faded away. What is the difference?
You will be a different person next time I see you and I will be a different person next time I see you.
We will never see each other again.

一期一会

It often is translated in English as Once in a Lifetime, and it’s not what it means.
Every moment is the first and the last moment of my life.
Every moment is the first and the last moment of your life.
Every encounter between you and I is once in a lifetime encounter.
I welcome you into my space as if it were the first time you see me,
Because it is the first time you see me.
I treat you as if it were the last time I see you,
Because this will be the lat time I see you.
That’s how we see and serve each other in my old country.

And we share a cup of tea.
In a tiny humble room with a tiny door,
Like the door Alice wanted to go through,
In a quietude of temporary stillness,
No move is carried out without specific intent,
And nonetheless it flows seamlessly
Because every movement happens concurrently.
And we drink a cup of tea
As it is once in a lifetime encounter with you.
I want to savor it with my full presence.
And we share a cup of tea.

© J.U. 2013

The photo was taken in 2010 in NYC.  It is a sculpture by Antony Gormley, not a real person.

Oni, on Transformation

Posted on by SomatiCat

An old woman on a desolate beach was standing, staring toward the sea. The sea wind was blowing through her long gray hair. The time was neither night nor day, neither dusk nor dawn. The sea was calm. A blue-gray shadow of distant land was floating beyond the sea.

beach_bw

She came a long way. It was so long that it could not be just one lifetime. She walked through a couple of lives to finally come here to the distant sea. I am tired. I am so tired and I want to die. The wind is blowing through my hair, which once was so angry that it flamed up and burnt the sky.

Blazing visceral anger burnt my entrails like a ungutted fish in a fire. It charred me inside out. Now my heart lost the heat of burning coal, and left me with ash gray hair. Every step I made was on a pass of tiles and gravel. Every breath I took was studded with broken glass.

Where did I come from, I do not remember. It was so long time ago.

All the way here, I slashed, stubbed, and sliced, gushing blood sprayed all over me, on my face, on my neck and on my arms. It burnt my skin and turned it into rusted iron. I hid in dark places days and nights, wounded, without moving as enemies’ shadow passed by. I was always on a watch, alert all the time. And when I slept, I dreamed of blood and dismemberment, and woke up to the smell of burning flesh.

That’s the only way I knew. It was my way. In my hand, I see a sword darkened with dry blood.

And I found myself standing on this beach alone. No more dead bodies for me to make around here. Where is my fire? Where is my anger? It’s all gone, because there is no enemy left to kill.

What did I do to deserve these lives of perpetual fighting. I’ve survived, and nobody to kill anymore. And I am standing here alone. I am tired and I want to die. I want to end this for good. No more fighting, no more bloodshed, no more hiding. I want to dissolve into a total oblivion. No more memories. No more me.

Then what is holding me here on this silent beach? Waves come and go, come and go for thousands nights and days. Let me dissolve into the place where the sea and the sky are indistinguishable. That is the only way I can stop fighting. Please do not make me turn into an Oni (demon) again.

Continue reading →

A Boy with One Hundred Demons

Posted on by SomatiCat

In the time of feudal warlords, one warlord stroke a deal with 48 demons.   In exchange with his first-born child, the demons agreed to help him to concur the country.  When he came back to his castle from the campaign, his wife gave birth to a son.  The baby was born with no eyes, no limbs, no vocal cords, no ears, no nose.   The warlord ordered his wife to get rid of the creature.  The wife put him in a cradle and let the river take care of it.

A medicine man living in the woods walked by the river and found a baby crying without voice.  He took a pity on the poor creature and brought him home. The baby survived and grew up to be a boy.   The medicine man made artificial limbs and false eyes for the boy.  The child could see with his mind’s eyes, and could hear and talk without hearing and talking.  The child grew up to be a young man.  The young man was excelled in the way of sword.   The medicine man created special prosthetics for him. The artificial limbs were loaded with swords and other weapons.

When the medicine man passed away, a spirit came to the young man and told him that he was destined to go and find 48 demons.   “For each demon you kill, you would reclaim the body part the demon took away,” the Spirit said.

The young man became a vagabond to follow his destiny.   He encountered a demon in a village.  It was torturing the villagers.  He fought the demon for the villagers to be liberated.  When the young man killed the demon, he regained one of his body parts back…with agonizing pain.   Seeing the young man growing a new body part, the villagers deemed him as one of the demons and cast him out.  So it goes on.  He had to keep on wandering till he became whole.  People started to call him Hyakkimaru, a Boy with One Hundred Demons.

I loved this story when I was a kid.  It is a manga/anime by Osamu Tezuka.   If you are interested in the original story, check Dororo and Hyakkimaru.  The plot summary above is from my memory and may contain some interpretation.

It is one of the Hero’s Journey stories a la Joseph Campbell.

Continue reading →

Mindfulness of Being Human

Posted on by SomatiCat

“Yeah, my dad was a werewolf and my mom was a python and we spent Saturdays performing musicals based on the writings of Pol Pot, but I’d like the chance to coach my kid’s Little League team.”

This sentence cracked me up in 2005.  It was well before Twilight Saga.  It was the year of Batman Begins; Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire; The Chronicles of Narnia.  The writer, Amy Sohn, was way ahead the curve.   The article is about dating and child-bearing.  You can read the entire article here:  http://nymag.com/nymetro/nightlife/sex/columns/mating/14917/

Since Twilight, the parentage of werewolf and vampire coupling seems to be common and perceived rather romantic than damaging.  It was the Mother Python that got me, though.

Yeah, my dad was a werewolf and my mom was a python.

If your father was a werewolf and your mother was a python and you were brought up by them, you have to remember that you could be a werewolf and/or a python. We might pass for a human if we are careful, but we have to be always aware of the possibility of turning.

What is the most difficult part of having a werewolf father was the turning part.  He was not Mr.Rogers, but appeared to be an ordinary guy during the day when with villagers.  And he turned suddenly without warning.  What we could do was to hold our breath and remain hidden till he turned back.

What is the most difficult part of having a python mother was her lethal hug.  She force-fed her children because she was always hungry for love and In the name of love, she squeezed her children’s will out till we stop moving.

So the children learned to survive.  I followed the path to be a werewolf.  When my dad turned, I turned.  Before he would turn, I turned.   At the slightest sign of threat, imagined or real, I turned.  My mom used to tell me that I was exactly my father’s child.  She covertly encouraged me to turn because I was the one with fangs and claws, while she claimed my younger brother as her own.  After I left the nest, I realized I turned to python when I was not a werewolf.  Python part was more difficult to control.

When we grow up in a family of creatures from horror movies, the world we live in is dangerous and we learn to survive in the dangerous world.  I didn’t understand people who wanted to have a family because it would make them happy.  I believed that a family is a training camp to teach children how to survive in the more dangerous world.  (Neither I or my brother has kids.)

It took me decades of therapy and deep psychology work to unlearn the old way, to learn the world is not dangerous, and to relax because the person you have a relationship with won’t suddenly turn and attack you.  Being human is a never-ending process for us, the children of werewolves and pythons.  I know I can go back to the old way at any moment and most of the time I manage to choose not to.  I’m still learning how to be human.

I don’t blame my parents for being a werewolf and a python.  That’s how they were and they did their best.  I am responsible for whom I chose to be.  As Sarah Conner in T2 realized, even a machine can learn to care.

 

Sand Castle

Posted on by SomatiCat

From Zen perspective, every moment contains birth and death.

There is nothing to be afraid of because I’m already dead. Who I think I am now is already in the past at this moment. It was such a relief to realize the simple truth. I just need to keep on reminding myself of the truth.

Become Your Dream

Posted on by SomatiCat

De la Vega Sightings.  I’ve encountered those images numerous times in my neighborhood past 15 years and I have never seen the artist in action.  I once entered an icecream store and found its counter covered with De La Vega images.  It makes me happy to find those images in chalk on my way to somewhere mandane.  It’s a reminder and the inherent impermanence of the message is zen worthy.

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