elephants never forget.

 there was a kid i knew way back at summer camp who'd go around asking if you wanted to see an elephant. and if you wanted to see, or even if you didn't, he'd untuck his pockets to represent the ears, stick two fingers through his unzipped fly to represent the trunk, wave them around and trumpet like a wild elephant. it was so stupid. still, to be perfectly honest, i thought it was the funniest thing i'd ever seen in my young life, and showed several friends myself. 

recently, like sixty-five years later, i just happened to come across a youtube clip in which a grown-ass man was doing the same gag, minus the ears. and i laughed. i laughed 'til i cried, watched it several times and shared with a few friends. i missed the ears, of course, which i believe are fundamental for the full effect, but i laughed so hard. and that made me wonder: have i grown up or matured much since those camp days? i mean, i was howling like an idiot young me. i really began to wonder. so i mentioned my concern to an old buddy who assured me that i have not grown up at all. he seemed quite definite.

legally around here, we're considered all grown by the age of eighteen. in many cases, as far as i can see, that's a stretch. at the same time, we all know kids who seem older than their years, ancient souls, so to speak. tibetan buddhists even go looking for them. and while we're supposed to respect our elders, they often act like kids. i know a guy over eighty who likes taking his dentures out at the most inappropriate times.

be that as it may, there seems to be an essential part of each of us that never changes even as we grow and have so many life experiences. there seems to be some essential, timeless, ageless part simply watching, observing, uninvolved, unaffected. tuning into that unchanging, pure, free and eternal reality is at the core of any true meditation practice. tat twam assi, that thou art.

but i don't honestly know about eternity. and frankly, in spite of all our talk of enlightenment, i rather doubt anybody has ever really known. i do know, however, that there's that unchanging, unborn, undying essence that was, is and will continue to be. and i know that if you're gonna do that elephant bit, you really gotta do the ears. it's just not the same without the ears.

why the long face?

 

'don't look for peace. don't look for any other state than the one you're in right now. accept your not being at peace. the moment you completely accept your non-peace, your non-peace becomes transmuted into peace. anything you accept fully will get you there, will take you into peace. that's the miracle of letting go.' adapted from a quote by eckhart tolle.

while stubbornly continuing to play basketball long after my best before date, a nasty and equally stubborn soreness in my back and side has sent me finally to the bench. the good news is that i've come upon quite an effective treatment. the procedure's simple, free, can be done at home and without any need for fancy equipment. best of all, it begins to  work almost immediately. it's called 'don't do nothin.' you simply stop doing stuff. 

to say it requires no fancy equipment might be somewhat misleading because a nice recliner helps tremendously with the treatments. and to say it's free is certainly misleading. there's no actual cost involved. that's true. however, you'll almost certainly subscribe to extra streaming services, especially sports channels, to watch people doing stuff you can no longer do. you're gonna need a larger and smarter television and you'll probably buy things off amazon you don't need.

all i can say is that the 'don't do nothin' modality has been working for me. and its healing power goes far beyond physical aches and pains. i highly recommend it. in fact, in the name of full disclosure i should mention that i've long been a practitioner of the modality. i've simply called it by a fancier name, sometimes even sanskrit, for marketting purposes. but, really, it's all about the fine art of letting go. 

'last night i lost the world and gained the universe.' anonymous.

if it's good enough for grandma.

 in the midst of a reasonably rememberable and arguably remarkable recent posting i admitted that my decisions lack critical thinking and are often questionable. you may recall me writing how a buddy likened my decision-making process to a squirrel crossing a busy street. so it might come as no surprise to learn that, in spite of being spectacularly colour-blind and unable to draw a straight line to save my life, i've decided to try painting wonderful and wondrous works of art. 

i'm obviously aware how ridiculous that might seem and how un-wondrous the paintings almost certainly will turn out to be. but i'm circumventing all possible criticism by calling myself a folk artist. folk art is defined as: 'art originating among the common people of a nation or region and usually reflecting their traditional culture, especially everyday or festive items produced and decorated by unschooled artists.' loosely translated, that means it's art created by folk who are often the result of multi-generational inbreeding and, while strangely decorative, their art's mostly terrible, even imbecilic. a folk artist is like a writer who never uses capital letters pays little attention to punctuation or even grammar but thinks himself a fabulous author. the truth is i absolutely adore folk art, always have. 

i once drove eight-hundred and forty-four kilometres just to attend an auction devoted solely to folk art. during the preview i jotted down several pieces i might be into bidding on and, as the auction progressed, i won a couple of small decoys for thirty dollars each, a large one for forty-five and a nice madonna carving for fifty-five dollars. so i went to the back room to grab one of the cardboard boxes and, as i re-entered the hall, i saw that a carving i particularly liked was being auctioned off. it was a charming little carving of a farmer being butted from behind by a goat. i heard the auctioneer calling: "fifty, fifty, i got forty-five, who'll give me fifty?" of course i immediately put up my hand. i was happy to offer fifty bucks for it. and then the auctioneer called out: "fifty-thousand, fifty-thousand, i've got fifty, fifty, who'll give me fifty-five?" well, that was probably the longest half-minute of my life until a tall gentleman standing at the back raised his hand. mercifully i lost that one, and the lady next to me whispered: "you're a real professional aye?" i just nodded coyly while secretly wondering if i had brought a change of underwear.  

anyway, reading recently regarding the life of grandma moses, who began her illustrious career at the age of seventy-six, i was inspired to give painting a try. most people believe inspiration's a fantastic happening. for me, that's not so clear. the last few times i've felt inspired, filled with an overwhelming rush of creativity, i lost friends. i lost a few following each article i was inspired to write during last winter's stupid reprehensible truckers' convoy protest. i lost a bunch after being swept up by an overwhelming inspiration to write a rather graphic memoire. and i'm often inspired by jokes only i find funny. somebody recently asked what my pronoun is and i responded by saying i haven't checked my pronoun for over a decade, not sure if it even works anymore. i thought that was hilarious while them and they walked away shaking their heads.

having said all that, i must add that it hasn't always been the case. many many years ago, i was utterly inspired after hearing about a way to peace, well-being and self-knowledge. and, although the self-knowledge part's certainly a never-ending enquiry, meditation's only ever been a gateway to the greatest of friendships. so, what the heck, i'll give this art thing a try.