Thursday, October 26, 2006

Apologies, samsara, and the beat goes on

Somewhere inbetween Joseph Campbell and my Algebra class, here at UPS erstwhile hell on earth. It's in these rare moments, thriving on new knowledge in old forms, that I am most peaceful, when I am learning and reading, challenging my mind.

Truth is as I flounder around in my negative emotions I realize I have no business feeling sorry for myself or expecting a pity party from anyone else.

I have lead a fairly priviledged life in a wealthy family. In many ways I have always felt much like the historical Buddha, who was royalty and sheltered but left the comforts of his good fortune to achieve enlightenment and compassion for others.

I look at my life but step outside myself and have a hard time feeling sorry for myself. I have a job, kids are healthy. I am not dying from AIDS, not starving in Africa, or seeing my country torn apart by Islamic terrorism.

So don't feel sorry for me. You don't like me and it hurts that so many people I care about could be so oblivious to how my feelings are hurt, but we all hurt and have our own problems.

I am sorry for how I have acted and my outburst towards Sharon and Bill, but I see little point in even bothering with a lot people anymore, truth is I would love to just join a Buddhist monastery and just focus on the beauty of nothingness and read books, write, chant, and pray.

But I have kids and responsibilities and thus am locked in this spinning wheel of samsara for some time to come. I realize most people don't like me or embarrassed by me and I have done things and said things to alienate people, and there is little I can do but just work on myself and tune eveything else out. But I am sorry. Truth is often times my job at UPS turns me into a despondent miserable shell of who I want to be but I continue with it as trial by fire, as a form selflessness and sacrifice, but really loathe the vortex or eye of the storm role I play, the incessant barrage of orders, demands for information, yelling, belittling, bitching, badgering, griping, & the relentless beeping of reset belts, that are part and parcel (no pun intended) with my job as flow control.

But I do it. Why?

Because of my kids.