Jet-Lag Diaries: Mafia in Mexico, Satori in San Diego, Trumped in Tucson, WTF…

img_1276Sometimes I feel like an archaeologist of myself, periodically coming across a shard or shrapnel from my past of which I have no clue as to where it came from or why it’s there, in this case an unopened letter from twenty years ago containing my college transcripts, grades and such, my university report card signed sealed but never delivered, for reasons unknown, the six ‘w’s of life—what where when who why WTF—left unanswered but for the nagging clingings of consciousness…

What was I considering studying: physics, microbiology, linguistics or anthropology? Whatever it was, I doubt it was philosophy, or religion, but I never did it anyway, never even applied, wherever it was, which ever it was, however I planned to pay for it, just a milestone of non-accomplishment, filed away for further consideration, flopping…

…floundering in the bottom of a file cabinet, somewhere, filled with assorted floppy disks, CD’s, DVD’s and other period pieces that defined my lifestyle of the past two-three decades mostly unattended, from one storage unit to another, from one American city to another in hopes of a brighter later, so maybe now it’s time, since grades don’t expire, now, do they?

img_1069So I went to Thailand instead, and the rest is history, arts crafts and all that R & R, money in the bank, for a later day, back and forth, between the real worlds and near-misses, sweet and sour sometimes salty kisses, after a hard day’s work, only honest labor brings childbirth, like only hard cash buys a stash, like only hard travel breeds seasonal migration, more east to west than north to south, bucking the usual trend of nomadic peregrination…

America is on the ropes, don’t need a month there to know that, when the vote totals are tallied and the absentee ballots trickle in, and the Democrats and Republicans fight for supremacy in the race for oblivion, no one asking the really Big Questions, and even fewer privy to the really Big Answers, while the peanut gallery on Facebook cheers their own team, and the Twitter followers of Trump wait for the next really Big Tweet…

No Mas Mexico

img_1271And I can’t even escape to Mexico any more, not necessarily, my nearby safe haven now infested with Mafia, carteloso no cauteloso, former drug runners now just petty thugs wanting a piece of all action, like sales agents getting ten percent off the top whether they do anything or not, offering protection without benefits, mort a credit, all pleasures salt-and-peppered with fear, break you whether or not they make you, every taco on the take now and every burrito burrowed behind closed doors of denial, so welcome to democracy…

…hope you like it with huevos revueltos, the only avenue to fulfillment now is religion, same as it ever was, getting right with yourself what you’ll never get right with the world, with politics, the gettings and spendings and accessions to power of the ruling class, the curdlingest cream of the cruelest crop, the type-A Alpha-male a**holes who would-be kings in a world of low self-esteem—wait a minute…

img_1279So I find my solace in the Forest Tradition of Buddhism, only a cool hundred years of history, cool if you’re lucky, the shade of a leafy tree your only protection against harsh elements, that and the favors of a willing populace, willing to support others in the quest for enlightenment, rather than bother with doing it themselves, the thankless tasks of poverty, literacy, simplicity and celibacy, in no certain order, so the big news for me in the States right now is that there are a few legitimate forest temples there, too…

…different forest same tradition, at least, Wat Metta near San Diego first and foremost among them, no matter if the names are changed and the accents are thicker, wearing shoes or flip-flops or driving cars no matter, Dharma is still Dharma and Truth is still Truth, not a bad deal when some practitioners of other traditions quibble over the minutiae of meditation or offer ersatz science, particle consciousness or right-brain mindfulness or enlightenment in six easy payments…

To be continued here…

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