January 26, 2005
A Memory
It's really amazing how sometimes, when you start talking about your childhood, emotions overcome you. Especially with respect to those things that are wedged deeply inside and not realized as particularly significant until someone asks you how you feel about it. You suddenly realize that you don't know how you feel, because you never asked yourself. But the weight of the memories are crushing your heart and as soon as your thoughts are brought into focus, you just fall apart.
I had this experience the other night when Rob and I were talking. We were both in a sharing mood and just chatting away about whatever was on our minds.
We talked about certain things that have changed in our lives as we've grown into adulthood or ways that our upbringing molded us into the adults that we are. One of the big ones for me (and my whole family) has been the loss of Buddhism as the cornerstone of our family life. The spirituality is still there, but the box that it was once in has been shattered. The reasons for this split are too great and complicated and wild with details to chronicle it all here.
I mentioned that something happened gradually that changed the direction of our lives and that I never stopped to acknowledge it because I felt it would be more helpful to my other family members if I just supported them in their shift. I didn't own any sense of loss myself. Or so I thought. I thought "That's the way the cookie crumbles. Everything is not always what it seems. Life goes on." And that's true. At the time that my parents and sister left the Buddhist community, I was already living away from home and focusing on my own life. My brother and I had already distanced ourselves by the mere fact of being very wild, independent teenagers. We had stopped dedicating ourselves to Buddhist practice years earlier. But it was still a part of my life. We still owned all this property on the Buddhist land. It was still the foundation on which our lives had been built. It was still a huge part of why I have even become the person I am today. My brother has still stayed very connected to our land, which I think gives him a sense of comfort. The separation from the sangha has been very difficult and confusing for my little sister and I think she's still working through it. It may be a long time before she really comes to understand how this has affected her. She was no half-assed little Buddhist. That girl was hardcore.
But when I was talking to Rob I realized that the split that occurred when my parents left our Buddhist community only a few years ago, after devoting the prior 25 years to that practice and lifestyle, did, in fact, affect me. Because everything that I had ever known, everything that I was raised with, it's over. I could never be part of a Buddhist community again.
Rob asked if I felt like I wanted to be involved in Buddhism again now that I'm an adult. "No. It could never ever be what it was. It could never be what I hold sacred in my childhood memories. Trying to reconnect with Buddhism on an organized level would only bring about deeper feelings of confusion and maybe even bitterness."
I realize that Buddhism gave me certain principles that I live by to this day, but on another level, what it really gave me was a childhood that is vivid and memorable in a way that I could never possibly have predicted as a little girl. It was my life then. I didn't know that I would one day be an adult and it would all be gone.
I don't blame my parents for abandoning Tibetan Buddhism. They have good reasons. But in my heart I feel a sense of loss that I've never taken a moment to really mourn. It's not the loss of the religion itself, but the loss of a world that I always expected would be there. I feel greatful that my parents raised me in that religion, regardless of the events of the past few years. And I cherish it all as it remains in my heart. The colors, the sounds of the drums and bells still beating and ringing in my memory, the images of a childhood filled with altars and monks and nuns, lamas and fire pujas, temples and statues and artifacts...watching those around me pouring their lives to the work and service and practice of Tibetan Buddhism...sharing with other children who were being raised the same as me, hiding together in corners, whispering and playing games while our parents devoted themselves to their quest for eternal enlightenment and a knowledge that might free them. That is what brought forth this incredible torrent of tears while I sat there with my boyfriend, who took me in his arms and hugged me so tightly, while I mourned just a little bit for the past.
We still have a lot of land there in the valley upon which our lives and spirituality were centered. I can go there anytime I am in Oregon. I can visit the temple, gaze at the statues, plod along the old familiar dirt paths, look out at all the familiar sights, remember the thousands of things that are forever imbedded in my mind. That still exists. But that life of worship and devotion is gone. Now it is all just a pretty picture of a happy childhood. And I'm cool with that. But I needed a minute.
I am the tall one. That is my little sister Ana on my left. I love the hoola-hoop socks. That is the altar that stood in our living room, behind us. The television in the background was used exclusively for watching movies. I don't think it got many channels. Robert feels that I should point out the fact that my legs are so long in this picture that it looks like my torso is tiny. This is actually the result of the incredibly short top and the outrageously high waisted shorts that I am wearing. My legs do not actually come up to my ribcage! Hahaa. I have to say that this is really one of the most hilarious pictures in our family album.
Posted by Maria at January 26, 2005 11:57 AM | TrackBackoh man. you were wearing jellies, weren't you?
Posted by: girl at January 28, 2005 12:03 AMYou called that one, girl! Woohoooo! Jellies. I even had a high heeled style later in life. Ugh.
Posted by: Maria at January 28, 2005 01:16 AMhigh-helled jellies?! I had no idea there were even such a thing. man. I feel so deprived now. I often wonder if some designer who thinks they are really fashion forward will try to bring jellies back.
Posted by: girl at January 28, 2005 04:22 AMwhoops. high-HEELED. ahem. not really sure what high-helled jellies would look like. maybe they'd have flames on the sides or something?
Posted by: girl at January 28, 2005 04:22 AMMaria,
If there were more people like you, psychologists would be looking for other work.
What you are feeling is so normal. How you are dealing with it is textbook perfect.
Our minds all center back to places of comfort. As infants, we are swaddled to remind us of the warm tight womb. As toddlers, our thumbs remind us of the nipple of a breast/bottle. As children and teenagers, we hold onto keepsakes from our infancy because it takes us back to an innocent place. Even as adults, when we sleep, we tend to sleep in the fetal position because again, it takes us to a warm safe place we only knew in a primal time in our lives.
Perhaps it was a subconscious thought that was triggered that made you go back to a time and place you cherish. You are a very sensitive person in that aspect. Only some tiny stimuli touches off some memory and you tend to stay in that place and contemplate it. There are those of us who yearn for that place again, to recapture it in its entirety. But even being physically close to those very things that were part of it will never bring it back to what it was. But this is OK.
When I was a boy, our family vacations in the summer time was always camping at some destination, be it near Virginia Beach, Lake Erie, somewhere near the Jersey Shore. We always slept in a tent, had a screen tent to eat our meals in. Always stayed a campgrounds that had swimming pools, lakes to fish in. I tear up when I see the pictures of those great times with my brother, sister and parents. I look back on those memories and ache to be there again. I have contemplated this so often in my life trying to figure out what it is I longed for and why, that one day I realized this wasn't something to be dissected and studied, but a place in the heart to be cherished and so grateful for. These aches are not aches at all, but these are the things that comfort us. These are the memories we should hold on to as best as we can, because with time, they grow hazier and fade.
So Maria, my only advice is to cherish them for what they are.
your dimples are the best...
I think you and your Dad should co-author the Colstein Chronicles. Wouldn't that be fun?
Posted by: geeekgirl at January 28, 2005 05:30 PMI've had almost six years of daily self-therapy at American-Buddha.com to get over this loss. I'm at the point now where I scream at the Dalai Lama and yesterday I publicly revoked his Nobel Peace Prize, which was obviously engineered for him by the CIA. While the CIA -- the Dalai Lama's handlers, were telling everyone that the Dalai Lama was a peaceful man like Mahatma Gandhi, in secret they were making deals to give tons and tons and tons of weapons to Tibetan guerillas and training them in paramilitary techniques at Camp Perry in Virginia for more than 10 years. Not to mention giving the Dalai Lama $180,000 per year and funding all of his Tibet offices around the world. America's relationship with Tibet had to do with foreign policy with China which, as one CIA writer put it, was "to relentlessly heckle the Chinese." Everything the Chinese have said about American Imperialism and nuclear blackmail were true.
Posted by: Tara Carreon at January 28, 2005 09:58 PMCan't seem to make the link work:
http://www.american-buddha.com/cia.secret.war.abol.htm
Posted by: Tara Carreon at January 28, 2005 10:02 PMCharles comments on the passage below: This was the establishment of a temple, of course, with Federal funds. No question that Tibet House is used to establish religion, a violation of the First Amendment Establishment Clause.
http://www.american-buddha.com/cia.secret.war.omens.htm
Gyalo proved his abilities in another CIA-supported venture. Because the Dalai Lama had long desired the creation of a central Tibetan cultural institution, the agency supplied Gyalo with secret funds to assemble a col1ection of wall hangings -- called thankas -- and other art treasures from all the major Tibetan Buddhist sects. A plot of land was secured in the heart of New Delhi, and the Tibet House -- consisting of a museum, library, and emporium -- was officially opened in October 1965 by the Indian minister of education and the Dalai Lama. It remains a major attraction to this day.
Three of the Dalai Lama's brothers were CIA agents.
Posted by: Tara Carreon at January 28, 2005 10:22 PMhttp://www.american-buddha.com/cia.secret.war.omens.htm
These first dozen Cornell-trained Tibetans were put to immediate use. Three were assigned to the Special Center. Others were posted to one of the CIA-supported Tibet representative offices in New Delhi, Geneva, and New York. The New Delhi mission -- officially known as the Bureau of His Holiness the Dalai Lama -- was headed by a former Tibetan finance minister and charged with maintaining contact with the various embassies in the Indian capital. The Office of Tibet in Geneva, led by the Dalai Lama 's older brother Lobsang Sam ten, focused on staging cultural programs in neutral Swit zerland.
The New York Office of Tibet, which included three Cornell graduates, formally opened in April 1964 following a U.S. visit by Gyalo Thondup. This office concentrated on winning support for the Tibetan cause at the United Nations, which was becoming an increasingly difficult prospect. In December 1965, Gyalo was successful in pushing a resolution on Tibet through the General Assembly for the third time, but some twenty-six nations -- including Nepal and Pakistan -- joined the ranks of those supporting China on the issue.
Posted by: Tara Carreon at January 28, 2005 10:26 PMAnd the Dalai Lama is not a humble celibate monk as he claims. He had, and I'm sure still has, many "conservative courtesans."
Posted by: Tara Carreon at January 28, 2005 10:35 PMAnd he's a nazi. His tutor, Heinrich Harrer was a nazi, sent to Tibet personally by Adolph Hitler. The first man to greet the Dalai Lama after his escape from Tibet was nazi Miguel Serrano, good friends to Augusto Pinochet.
Posted by: Tara Carreon at January 28, 2005 10:37 PMhttp://www.american-buddha.com/shadow.dalai.1.htm
Here's an incredible book, a must-read for any Tibetofile. Here you can learn all about the Tibetan female sacrifice.
Posted by: Tara Carreon at January 28, 2005 10:41 PMhttp://www.american-buddha.com/jap.doom.htm
Or how about here for the Dalai Lama's endorsement -- "you have the mind of a Buddha" -- of Guru Shoko Asahara who engineered Tokyo's poison gas attack that killed several and injured over 5,000.
Posted by: Tara Carreon at January 28, 2005 10:44 PMRead about FASCIST OCCULTISM AND ITS CLOSE RELATIONSHIP TO BUDDHIST TANTRISM here:
http://www.american-buddha.com/fascist.occult.htm
Posted by: Tara Carreon at January 28, 2005 10:46 PM.
Dolts. Right-wing throwbacks.
You can't begin to approximate Tara's intellect, nor her class.
Go back to canine mucous, where you belong.
.
Did you know that the Dalai Lama made a world-wide plea for Augusto Pinochet to be spared a trial?
Posted by: Tara Carreon at January 29, 2005 12:31 AMCosa, that truly is my mother. I think you should know. Not what you expect? Get used to it! I've known her my whole life and she still shocks me on the regular.
Posted by: Maria at January 29, 2005 02:16 AMMama, as usual, people are never ready to hear what you have to say!!! Hahaa! That's what I love about you. Most people will go their entire lives without ever hearing one person call the Dalai Lama a nazi. It's good for them. If you can't take it from someone who devoted their life to Buddhism, who can you take it from? I love that you say things that shock people so intensely that they think there's no possible way it could have been YOU that said it!
Be warned, this woman may say things you never wanted to hear, but in our family we have come to accept that at some point down the road, we will eventually have to admit that she's right about a lot of things.
When it comes to Buddhism and the activities of lamas, I defer to her knowledge above all. Her opinion is one based on a great deal of time, research and personal experience.
Posted by: Maria at January 29, 2005 02:32 AM.
Feel free to delete all my posts.
.
...geez I THOUGHT my post was pretty innocuous..
Sheesh.
Posted by: Richard at January 30, 2005 02:45 PMMaria,
Your essay was a really beautiful expression of the incredible irony of our life together as a young Buddhist family. Your description of the Buddhist kids hanging out together while their parents searched for enlightenment, watching as the magic swirled all around, was really evocative of a mood. Would that it were possible to preserve the magic of a time, but everything changes and changes and changes. What is most important is to keep the inspiration to live each day with a right mind. As the Zen saying says, "a stone Buddha cannot cross water, a wooden Buddha cannot cross fire," meaning that limited Buddhas provide no refuge. And in our case, a Tibetan Buddha can't cross your mom's critical intellect. She managed to raise the insuperable objection. Everything else is icing on the cake.
But here's the big secret -- even those who remain Buddhists have lost those magical days. The world of Buddhism we knew is gone, and not just because we left it. We left it because it was gone.
Love,
Daddyo