the dentist did it.

"there is no loss. the sun sets and the moon sets, but they're not gone. seeds go into the ground only to come up again with some unimagined beauty. your mouth closes here and then opens with a shout of joy over there." rumi.

well, i hope so. because i lost two teeth the other day and i'm not shouting for joy here or there. i'm pretty sure i know where i left them, but they're gone now. the problem is, i really don't have too many left and losing those two, well, it was a blow. it was one of those situations that happen every now and again, when you're too busy, distracted, on a fast train or a crowded street corner. i went into an office, got swept up in the moment. i only realized i'd lost the teeth once i was home, grabbed an apple, went to take a bite and nothing happened. my mouth just kinda slid along the thing as i drooled onto the table. it was too late to do anything about it. by then those tusks were almost certainly nicely carved and sold on the black market. i had to accept their loss, wipe the table and carry on with my life.

there's a meditation often suggested during which one contemplates what you are not. for example: you're not your arms because you can live without them. you're not your legs. you're not your hair, your eyes or your ears. the procedure continues and gets rather more intrusive once you include various organs that are non-essential or can be replaced. it gets downright weird as you consider your brain, your heart, your gentles. at that point, after being mentally sliced, diced and dissected, it is suggested you contemplate what is left: the power animating your body, the very all-permeating life-force, pure and free.

i get that, but i do miss my teeth. and i'm afraid of where i'm heading. i recall a time in india when i was given the job of escorting an elderly lady, the wife of a prominent indian general, to a dinner-party. she was an extremely obese woman and we had to make our way up a long set of stone steps. at one point she stopped. she leaned against the railing and let out a massive breath that sent her dentures flying from her mouth. with a tremendous trajectory, they landed in the dirt clear on the far side of the fence and, yes, you guessed it, i had to pick them up and wash them off for her. will that be me soon, minus about 200lbs?

there is no sense bemoaning my fate. i know that. rumi also wrote: "don't grieve. anything you lose comes around in another form." which is great, if that other form is gonna help me chew. because the loss of my two teeth has not just left a gaping hole in my heart and my mind but, more specifically, in my mouth.

"sunlight fell upon a wall. the wall received the borrowed splendour. why set your heart on a piece of earth, dear one? seek out the source which shines forever." rumi. 

the selfie.

on facebook, i decided i should update my profile picture. the one i had on there was really quite fine, all things considered. it was taken with perfect lighting, i was wearing a clean white shirt, my best glasses and i was nicely poodled. but, i'm a few years older now and, like anyone, i want people to accept me for who i am.

i began taking selfies for the new profile picture. unfortunately, once i looked at a few of those, i thought: jeez, maybe it's ok to be accepted for who i was. i mean, what the fark(?) i looked like a combination of uncle morris and aunt phyllis, with a hint of mom and a dash of dad. and they didn't even like each other. i tried adjusting the lighting, the angle, my shirt, my glasses. i combed my hair. i ruffled my hair. it did not go well. unfortunately, i couldn't find the previous picture. it was deleted, gone, like my youth, gone forever. i was left with the reality of the present moment and it felt kinda harsh. so i decided that, until i could get a reasonably presentable current photo, i would simply use a shot of my garden. the problem with using a photo of a shrub as your profile picture, however, is that it's kinda like saying you have the personality of a bush, or the intelligence of a leafy green thing. it just felt wrong.

it was a great relief, therefore, when i recalled the true story, repeated often in india, about a sage by the name of ashtavakra. ashtavakra was pretty ugly. he couldn't stand up straight, couldn't walk properly. he moved slowly and with great trouble. his neck, chest, knees and feet were all deformed. one hand was withered but, on the other hand, he was a highly enlightened being. he had realized something along the way very pure, very freeing.

a nobleman went riding with his entourage one day through the forest near where ashtavakra lived. the nobleman's name was janak, a wealthy, handsome, proud and widely feared man. his procession was stopped because ashtavakra happened to be slowly crossing the path at that precise time. irritated by the delay, janak rode up to the front and ordered ashtavakra to hurry up or be trampled. ashtavakra laughed at that and carried on as best he could. seeing ashtavakra laughing made janak fly into a rage. "you dare to laugh at me!?," he yelled. "of course, because it's laughable," ashtavakra said as he moved ever so slowly forward. janak hollered: "you insolent, ugly creature! i have killed men for less." at that, ashtavakra stopped, turned and smiled disarmingly up at janak. "you are undoubtedly very fearsome, sir, sitting majestically up on your magnificent horse" he said, "but your understanding is as horribly malformed as my body. you cannot destroy that which has no beginning nor any end. think about it."

remembering that old story, of course it occurred to me that if ashtavakra could smile in the face of certain death, i could at least smile into my iphone. and it made a world of difference. "let us always meet each other with a smile," mother teresa is reported to have said. "for a smile is the beginning of love."