21 May

Posted at 10:15h in Anecdotes

My parents were orthodox Jews. According  to my sister, before my parents married, my father wanted to have sex with my mother but my mother refused; telling him that for obvious religious reasons she wanted to wait until they were married. Finally, on the first night of their marriage, they engaged sexually. Their first-time lovemaking was mutually satisfying, but pleasure turned to anger when my father realized my mother was not a virgin.   I thought it funny that my father's mind distracted him from the pleasure at hand; that my mother had bed others before him and mislead him seemed besides the point. As both my parents have passed, I don't know whether my father was upset because he felt my mother's deception compromised the foundational trust upon which a solid marriage is based or that my father felt that marriage was a significant financial commitment on his part for which he expected to have first dibs on certain bedroom benefits that others had received for free.     The mind can make the most pleasurable things unpleasurable. I was recently informed by my sister that my father, an orthodox Jew, was angry the night he consummated his marriage to my mother. Their lovemaking turned from pleasure to anger when he realized my mother was not a virgin as she had claimed.   I thought it funny that his mind distracted him from the pleasure at hand; that she had bed others before him and mislead him seemed besides the point. I don't know whether my father was upset because he felt my mother's deception compromised the foundational trust upon which a solid relationship is built upon or perhaps my father felt that marriage was a significant financial commitment on his part for which he expected to have first dibs on certain bedroom benefits; yet, apparently, others received the benefits for free. I thought it funny that his mind distracted him from the pleasure at hand; that she had bed others before him and mislead him seemed besides the point. I don't know whether my father was upset because he felt my mother's deception compromised the foundational trust upon which a solid relationship is built upon or perhaps my father felt that marriage was a significant financial commitment on his part for which he expected to have first dibs on certain bedroom benefits; yet, apparently, others received the benefits for free....

01 Apr

Posted at 22:10h in Anecdotes

In October, 1992 I started collecting tribal art. While initially I didn't imagine tribal art would be expensive, I was soon amazed at how expensive some objects were; some fetching hundreds of thousands of dollars. What made these objects so expensive is that there is a limited supply of "authentic" objects. (Authentic objects are those made by a tribal people for their own use and used accordingly. That's unlike "tourist" objects made for others and "fakes" made to appear like authentic objects.) Authenticity is essentially the sine quo nom of the collectibles markets generally. Without a limited supply of art objects qualifying as authentic, the art market would collapse. If objects were judged simply by their aesthetic appeal alone, facsimiles that were indistinguishable from authentic objects would flood the market, making authentic objects not worth more than the cost of making a facsimile. Without high-priced collectibles, there would be no collectors spending huge sums to support art museums, auction houses and well-heeled dealers. Art, as well as everything else, is viewed by our eyes and our mind. Our eyes see things as they see things. As our eyes have no memory, our eyes cannot compare one thing with another. However, while some things engage and appeal to us and some less so, just about everything has a unique beauty to it from some perspective. Our mind cannot see, it can only hear. When we look at an art object in terms of its authenticity, provenance, description and in comparison to other art objects, we are "seeing" through our mind, not our eyes. The art market depends on collectors seeing through their mind, not their eyes. As a collector I've met many dealers. One thing that several said in passing particularly struck me: there have been many well-considered collectors that as they got on in years often sold many of their "top" objects and purchased others that were clearly fakes or of lower quality. Dealers speculated that these old collectors simply lost their "eye;" that is, they could no longer distinguish a fake from an authentic object or they lost their sense of taste and as such were satisfied with lower quality objects. Perhaps or maybe these old collectors finally saw art objects with their eyes, not their mind. Now, I too am an old collector and appreciate the mindset of the old collectors who were pooh-poohed by dealers and museum people. Someone truly engaged with the art itself (not with art as an investment or status symbol) solely focuses on the aesthetic and engaging aspects of an art object. Whether it's fake or real is immaterial. Each object is what it is whatever it is; to be appreciated as it is, absolutely, not relative to something else or because it's dressed in superlatively flattering adjectives. Collectors who've come to this realization tend to be older, having spent many lifetimes and considerable sums building their collections. They truly have a great "eye" as they see objects with their eyes, not with their mind. More generally, beyond art, these older individuals tend to be in Act 3 in the play of life; the transition from their finite material selves to who they were before their birth, the Soul. In the transition, we see beauty everywhere. As to the art market, they shake their heads and laugh at the foolish collectors they once were....

15 Jul

Posted at 10:15h in Anecdotes

Bodily death is when we transition from being a piece of the universe to being at peace with the universe. The transition begins with a peaceful death, not unlike going to sleep after an energy-draining day. The one transitioning is laid in a comfortable bed in a dome-shaped room, like the egg from which they came. The ceiling of the room depicts the night sky in motion, with occasional clouds and shooting stars. Waves of sound in the form of transcendental music fill the air. The stars and sounds quiet the mind. We hold the hand of the one transitioning and periodically say: "I love you, always have, always will, always and all ways. Thank you for being you. Thank you for having me." Soon the waves of light and sound become One, as does the one transitioning into the One....

04 Jul

Posted at 10:15h in Anecdotes

One of my favorite gadgets is the Insinkerator. It sits beneath the sink and grinds down all but beef bones. I use it several times a day and each time it's an engaging experience. I think about the bacteria beneath the Insinkerator; how they will enjoy the rinds of blood oranges, watermelon remains and eggshells. As well, I think about the pipes having their throats cleared as citrus remains clear fatty deposits. I'm sure they know that my eating preferences are different than that of the people who lived in my house before me. Likewise, I think about the bacteria below the toilet. They've got lots of shit to eat several times a day. Recently, I had a couple of stale dry cigars that I put down the toilet instead of tossing them in the garbage bin. The cigars must have been a refreshing treat for the bacteria. I imagined them greeting the cigars with amazement, marveling at their uniform shape. Thinking the cigars a delicacy, the bacteria rushed to feast. But maybe they were put off by the taste and declared: "This tastes like shit."   It's wonderful, experiencing the universe as others, whether they be bacteria or pipes. That's what it means to be awake. Being awake might sound crazy to those who are sleeping, but when we're awake we're free to be whatever we want to be....

11 Jan

Posted at 09:48h in Anecdotes, I Am Time

Some 25 years back, in the “old city” section of Jerusalem, I stepped into a shop selling antiquities. As I looked at various objects in glass cases, the owner of the shop introduced himself and said he’d been an antiquities dealer for more than fifty years, dealt in very fine and desirable objects and was sure he had something I'd like. I told him I’d been collecting antiquities for some time and wanted to look around. He then asked: “What are you looking for.” I replied: “I don’t know what I’m looking for until I find it.” To which he said: “In that case, you’re looking for nothing.” While not apparent to me at the time, ultimately he was right. Now, no longer an art collector, I seek to collect the answers from our ancestors to the nature of consciousness. I seek oneness with the nothing which is the essence of everything....

08 Jan

Posted at 10:45h in Anecdotes, I Am Time

I told my six year old grandson, Penn, that a friend of mine is expecting to die of terminal illness in the spring. Penn said: “Your friend is lucky.” I asked: “Why lucky?” Penn said: “They are not dying now.”...

27 Dec

Posted at 10:15h in Anecdotes, I Am Time

Once upon a time there were twin sisters. They came from a good family, married well, had good children and lived happily ever after. Their lives were nearly identical but for one thing. One sister, Mary, was promiscuous and the other sister, Judith, was religious, adhering to a strict moral code. Everyone in their town knew Mary as "Mattress Mary" as it seemed she slept with everyone. Often, on hot evenings when people kept their windows open to let in the cool air, you knew in whose flat Mary was as she wailed "Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God." While Mary was howling, Judith was in anguish, quietly praying to God to forgive her sister. When they were done living happily ever after, it was their time to go to the hereafter, where God determined which sister would go to heaven and which to hell. I don't know the mind of God and whom he sent where, but I know that Mary came from heaven and Judith came from hell.   The Kotzker Rebbe famously taught that God is not merely “everywhere”, but is found specifically “in the place where He is given entry”. This means that external appearances, reputations, or even strict adherence to religious codes do not guarantee closeness to the divine. Instead, God is present where the heart is open-where there is vulnerability, authenticity, and genuine invitation....

26 Dec

Posted at 10:15h in Anecdotes

Marriage is like a corporate partnership where each spouse assumes different department roles: Chief Executive Officer, Chief Financial Officer, Director of Human Resources, etc. Of course, conflicts sometimes arise when there’s confusion about who’s in charge of which department. Take, for example, a familiar scenario: A wife voices her dissatisfaction about something her husband said or did. The husband, caught off guard, may wonder why he’s being confronted; after all, he sees himself as head of the Rewards Department, not the Complaints Department. His solution? Assign his wife as the head of the Complaints Department; after all, she’s got the most experience in that area. Alternatively, when complaints arise, the wisest course may be to simply listen and agree (“Yes, you’re right”), allowing her to vent until she feels better. A common mistake is to try to address her concerns rationally, or to help her see things from a different perspective. This usually backfires, leading to the classic: “You don’t understand me.” And she’s right; if you truly understood her, you might not have married her in the first place. ....

30 Nov

Posted at 10:15h in Anecdotes, I Am Time

“When I was 5 years old, my mother always told me that happiness was the key to life. When I went to school, they asked me what I wanted to be when I grew up. I wrote down ‘happy’. They told me I didn’t understand the assignment, and I told them they didn’t understand life.” -- John Lennon...

13 Nov

Posted at 10:15h in Anecdotes, I Am Time

On my grandson's 7th birthday, I told him  that I loved him. I then asked him whom he loved most. He said he loved 99% of all the people he knows. Thinking I was unclear, I said, "maybe you didn't understand love?" Before he could reply, his 5 year old brother chimed in, "Maybe you don't understand love."...