Remodeling
Moving into a new house always means changing things around to suit your lifestyle and your taste. Safety, too, like upgrading wiring. In some ways, it's a very selfish, personal thing. Most people like to live in a home that matches their aesthetic sense; it's inherently pleasurable. And let's be honest -- shopping can be fun, too.
Needless to say, I've done a lot of that. In our previous house, we didn't do a lot. It came to us beautiful, and there wasn't much we could do to improve it. This house, from the beginning, we knew was going to be a project -- much more fancy, less grand -- more us.
I've learned a lot of things doing it, as well, I'd never really done any electrical stuff before. Honestly, it scared the crap out of me. Not anymore. I've changed nearly every light fixture in the house; the only things I haven't done are the chandelier in the dining room (it's too big to do myself, and I'd rather pay someone who's got more experience for that) and ceiling fans, because of the bracing & other structural stuff. I'm aware of my limits, and I'm all too aware of what idiots who think they can save a buck by doing it themselves with no thought to the whys or wherefores are capable of. (I'll have to tell the sad tale of Caulk Man in another entry.)
But it makes me feel more not only more responsible for & proud of my home, but also generally raises my self-esteem.
Surviving painting just makes me relieved, though, and that's been the project for much of the last week.
This room was an upstairs den. That's how the previous tenants had it. Under that wretched 70s mottled shag carpet is lovely oak. Before we even moved in, we had the few rooms with carpet in them shorn of their woolly hideousness, and all the floors refinished.
That left bad track lighting, and walls the color of putty. I pulled out the old track, installed a new one, and put on cobalt-glass shaded pendants. The room is going to be a meditation space/library, and we purchased a bunch of Chinese style furniture. I have a little seiza bench and matching desk which I use for my shakuhachi music. Barbara finished the bare wood with a crackle glaze (black over orange) then washed it with brown translucent glaze to unify it, and completed it with a high gloss finish. It looks great.
We went back and forth on the walls for a while. We were pretty sure we wanted blue, but we didn't know which shade. Ultimately, I was the one who went to the paint store & picked out the color. I brought the paint home & showed the chip to Barbara, who promptly announced, "That's horrible. That isn't the color you got, was it?"
I was not pleased.
After feeling like dirt for a bit, I looked at the color again, next to the furniture, and said, "This will work. Trust me."
As we painted, Barbara began to warm up to the paint. "It looks like turquoise," she said. "Really sky blue turquoise, and the furniture's kind of the color of red coral, so it has kind of a Tibetan feel."
"Yes," I said, as I rolled along the back wall. "I know."
Now, she really likes it.
I feel vindicated.
As I sat down this afternoon to meditate, I thought that the process of sitting is kind of like remodeling. It is for me, anyway.
After I restarted my blog, my friend Bryian dropped by & loaned me a copy of a book called The Stages of Meditation, by the Dalai Lama.
Now, I have a major admission to make: Unlike perhaps any other American Buddhist, I have never read anything by the Dalai Lama. The closest is The Jew in the Lotus, which has parts about the Dalai Lama. In fact, I've much clicked with Tibetan Buddhism. It's interesting, and I've drawn inspiration from it, but it's never seemed like the path I wanted to take. I can't even really tell you why, it just doesn't 'click' or something.
Actually, I can tell you part of it. First of all, this particular book, being a commentary on a sutra, is very dense, with a lot of rigorous argumentation. I'm all for rigorous argumentation, but sometimes it feels as if all the concepts and ideas just weigh down the direct experience that, to me, is the essence of practice.
The other thing, and I'm kind of ashamed to admit this, is the intense focus on compassion and lovingkindness for the entire universe. Frankly, that's just too big for me to encompass. There are just too many things that piss me off, that I believe are flat out wrong -- and people who willingly, knowingly, intentionally, do those things. And I don't feel the need to be compassionate or loving towards those individuals. Perhaps someday, in this life or some other, that will be so, but not now.
Instead, I'm trying to work on remodeling my mind. Getting rid of the things that don't work, that trip me up. It's selfish, at this stage, but the intention is broader than that.
In the same way that remodeling my house makes me a more content person, more able to live my life efficiently, safely, and joyfully, so, I hope, does meditation. And, like remodeling, the process is messy, and seems to take forever. It's also never done; there's always something else to work on.
Hopefully, though, as I become more secure, satisfied, and content, removing those thought-patterns which get in my way, I can more effectively give what I have to the rest of the world.
That's the plan, anyway. For now, I'm still busy knocking down walls, rewiring, and painting.
