Thoughts

I lost another important person in my life. It was the man who helped pave the path for my career. An old colleague called me yesterday to let me know he passed a few weeks ago, which again was a news I was anticipating. He was battling liver cancer for a few years. Mr. K was a well-known journalist in Japan and was operating a production company downtown LA producing a weekly news magazine show for the local Japanese TV audience in the ‘80s. I was still a student at UCLA trying to finish up my undergrad aspiring to find a career path in journalism. Even though I had little experience, he hired me as an independent contractor. He believed in me, and for years since he continued to refer me to many meaningful documentary projects I’m proud to have worked on. Even though he was rather difficult to work for in the early years, as we both got older he turned out to be someone I could seek advice and guidance and actually enjoyed his company whenever we got to see each other and often shared meals whether in L.A. or in Tokyo.

They say you can never be ready enough for eminent loss no matter how long you anticipated it. And the truth is I was ready a long time ago, and at the same time, I was never ready. I guess I don’t know what it means to be “ready” anyway – if there’s such a thing. Or is there such thing as “complete” with the grieving process? Probably not. It is surreal to think that I no longer have to plan my trips to Japan around going back to my hometown to see my mom. O.K. This actually brings tears in my eyes – and feelings arose in this moment.

The rain finally came on Monday. It was really the first rain for us in the mountains as that fantastic rain storm that hit Los Angeles a little while ago barely brought a few rain drops. This one came rather quietly though much anticipated and lasted for a good part of the day. And that gentle sound of it was oh so comforting. As I looked out the windows, I was almost ecstatic to see the trees getting showered after all these months of no precipitation.

Today was the one-year anniversary of my beloved kitty, Nicola’s passing, and it’s been exactly two weeks since my mom passed. I know I’m not the only one who’s lost more than one beloved ones during this pandemic. For me it is a mixture of blessings, ironies, and frustrations, and I’d imagine many have experienced something similar.

And I tend to forget that I am grieving. It was like that with my last cat, Nicola, who’s been gone for a whole year now. Both with Nicola and Mom, I knew the inevitable losses were coming and I grieved long before the end finally came while I kept busy pursuing my dreams and aspirations. My life has been blessed with so many opportunities to learn so many new things that are beneficial for my personal and professional life and connect with so many individuals who inspire me and nourishes my soul. Yet, it takes my friends reminding me that am grieving when I have a hard time getting myself motivated to get to work or even do some household chores because I feel this underlining sorrow and despair.

As I was trying to settle back into my life the last couple of days, the call came early this morning from my brother. My mom finally made her transition last night at the hospice. I was told she passed as if she just went to sleep without any pain or suffering. I had called her care manager the day before I left for my trip. She happened to be by my mom, so she put the phone to my mom’s ear telling her it was me calling. Mom couldn’t verbalize and only made a grunt. The lady told me she started crying when she heard my voice. It turns out that was the last time I heard her voice.

This is the reality we live today. This road trip was meant for me to explore the West coast with an intention of finding a possible new home, and it is also to really understand what’s really happening beyond our big little world of the Southern California where we’ve lived for over 4 decades. Again, I find myself feeling pulled into a despair, yet today after having spent 3 days of “alone” time in the car, I’m finding motivation to keep going with my life. May the new scenery provide some new perspective and inspiration. 🙏

And I wonder if I’m highly empathetic to feel so unsettled every morning as I wake up, or is it my own shit (excuse my language). It’s likely the combination of both. I’ve never considered myself to be a pessimist, but I’m beginning to wonder. I’m not liking the thoughts that are passing through my head, and I would like to change that. I don’t want to be a whiner or nay sayer. As I sought a consult of an energy healer, who told me that I’m carrying too much on my shoulder. That feels true. Sigh.

Yeah, I’m really liking that term, “gentle perseverance.” My efforts don’t have to be driven by my need to prove, to change something or someone, or to be recognized. If I can trust my internal compass and persevere gently, that’s all that matters.

While it was initially rather disturbing to see the headless Buddha on our trail, I have grown to like it as it is. It seems like Buddha really doesn’t mind that his head is gone and now is in an open space without a shelter. He sits there still and quietly without his head observing what’s around unperturbed: the birds, the trees, the animals including us two-legged beings in this woods. I’m only a part of the scene. Equanimity…

As I spent 7 days under the sun and starry sky, listening to the birds, mingling with the friendly and whimsical goat of the land, Kodi, and feeling the sea breeze on our bare skin, I got to viscerally sense that we “belong” to this earth just as the trees, plants and all the beings who shared this land. It reminds me to tread mindfully as I continue to follow the path as guided on this journey. And we shall see where it leads me in the coming days, weeks, months and years.

Some time ago, I asked one of my teachers, Gil Fronsdal, when I was feeling restless in my meditation what the “restlessness” was about. He said it could be a form of greed, which is one of the three states of mind that cause suffering (greed, hatred and delusion) according to Buddha. When I’m restless, my mind is usually telling me all the things I should do, places I should go, and people I should talk to and not having a good plan to accomplish them. That sense of “not enough” feels certainly like greed.

Buddha was born under a tree, got enlightened under a tree and passed away under trees. He spent a lot of time in the nature while he traveled around to disseminate his teachings in the meantime. Short of living a monastic life (although I’ve certainly considered that as well), would there be a place for us where we could live a life close to the nature, respectful of the land and life, and live happily ever after in a friendly, supportive and diverse community? Hmmm it sounds like a tall order… We shall see, right?

This is just another reason I love about living here in the middle of a national forest. Basically, I’m forest bathing 24/7 as long as I’m not gone off the hill. These days having access to the nature is so important and valuable so that we get to understand we, human beings, are simply a part of it. When I am deep in the forest looking up at those trees that must be a few hundred years old, I get to feel that I am only a tiny particle flowing through on this planet called, Earth. In a book by Thich Nhat Hanh, Love Letter to The Earth, he says, “When you realize the Earth is so much more than simply the environment, you will be moved to protect her as you would yourself.” That’s why I spend a lot of time in the woods asking myself, “What can I do to take care of this Earth?”

In our mountain community, which is literally tucked in by Los Padres National Forest, there are pockets of what we call, “green belt.” Basically, these are the areas that were left alone when this community was developed in late 1970s so some of the homes would have views of the forests. The trail I spend a lot of time where I’ve created many of my photos is also on one of those green belts. Recently, the forest services have been doing a lot of clearing. Due to the drought sustained over the last many years, many of the old trees died and became fire hazard. Where it used to feel like a deep forest is now a pretty open field with some healthier old trees still standing. Some of the huge fallen trunks are left in the field and started the process of decaying. Having become so familiar with this forest, I can’t help but notice how these tree trunks would take years and years to decompose after they fell, the in between stage of a tree’s life between being a tree and being a part of the dirt on the ground.

While I seem to be experiencing a flow of joy, excitement and visibility in the last few weeks, there are obviously some shadows hanging over me as mom remains in the hospital. Just like Buddha taught about shifting winds – Eight Worldly Winds, which are pleasure and pain; gain and loss; fame and disrepute; praise and blame, I’m only noticing the randomly shifting winds all the time and choosing to go with the flow without trying to read into the unknown future one day at a time.

Meanwhile I’m grateful to have made it through this intensely unsettling time so far with losses and gains, both heartbreaking and heartwarming in different shades and flavors. So it goes, life keeps happening. The worldly winds keep blowing and shifting, and all I can do is to take one day at a time as mindfully as I can.

Today, I can’t find much more to say other than that I’m so grateful to get to do this work that integrates everything I care about. When things get really busy – as it often does in our life, I keep reminding myself to take one next indicated step at a time trusting that I’m divinely guided. So here I go taking another step forward…

They say “forest bathing (shin rin yoku)” is good for you. They’ve been recognizing that for more than 3 decades in Japan. As Buddha taught, the direct experience counts the most, which is how we develop faith in our practice. I am grateful to have an easy access to the forests let alone a mountain known for its healing energy. What best remedy could I have to practice mindfulness and replenish my depleted soul?

I selfishly prayed my father, grandparents and all the kitties she had would come and pick Mom up while I was still in Japan, but she’s still holding on. She will soon be moved to a hospice facility where she will likely make her transition in the coming weeks. While my heart is filled with a complex mixture of feelings including sadness, anguish, and guilt, I will continue to practice Metta for her so her journey is filled with ease and light. May you be free of suffering, Mom…