Dharma Talk

In last weekend’s religion column in the Globe, there was an interesting brief profile of a woman, Jane Dobisz, who did a 100-day solitary Buddhist retreat some years ago and has written about it in The Wisdom of Solitude: A Zen Retreat in the Woods, recently published by HarperSanFrancisco. The column mentioned she’d be speaking on Thursday night at the Cambridge Zen Center at a free event.

So I went.

But it wasn’t a reading or a lecture. It was a dharma talk, my first ever. It was fascinating and wonderful. Turns out Jane Dobisz is a guiding teacher of the Cambridge Zen Center. So there was the whole thing: taking off the shoes in the entryway; waiting until the sitting session was done; being asked to bow as we entered the room; sitting on cushions and zafu; bowing and a six-minute meditation. (Because the Buddha meditated for six years under the bodhi tree.) There was a short dharma talk first by another teacher about writing and books in the Zen tradition. Then Jane Dobisz answered questions.

A very refreshing evening.

Nigella Lawson on women, sex and booze

I found this link: SocietyGuardian.co.uk | Society | Comment: Nigella Lawson on women, sex and booze over on the Julie/Julia Project, (now no longer a current blog, but I’m reading along faithfully). Here’s a zinger:

Of all drugs, alcohol is probably one of the most unattractive: it makes people boring and loud, a lethal combination. Sit me in front of a cokehead any day — at least the conversation will be better.

The Quakers in America

Thomas D. Hamm. Brand-new concise history and survey of the Religious Society of Friends in the United States. It covers the whole spectrum, blemishes and beauty spots alike. I like Tom Hamm’s writing style (and speaking style, too, as it happens), and it is good to have an up-to-date, academically respectable survey to recommend to anyone who wants to know more about Quakers.

How to Cook a Wolf

M.F.K. Fisher. What a wonderful, idiosyncratic writer! In one chapter she remembers making eggs in little ramekins while drinking champagne at three in the morning before going to bed; in another she suggests that one leave the grease from mixing up meatloaf on your hands for a while as a moisturizer. This in a book written during World War II about how to make do in privation.

Mary Frances grew up among Quakers in Whittier, California. Not a Quaker herself, she appears to have unpleasant memories of the Friends.

Five-question interviews

I found a fun meme on Bakerina’s blog, where she kindly invited people to play along. I took up the invitation, and here are Bakerina’s five questions to me, with my answers.

1. What is it about knitting that you find so satisfying?

There are so many things: I love the texture and the color (although these delights could be satisfied by fondling a basket of yarn) (. . . which I’ve contemplated); I like the creativity of selecting stitch patterns (color patterns, mostly; one of my favorites is called “dancing grannies”). The greatest satisfaction, however, is very much about the physical act. I find it calming and centering; it seems to disengage a judgmental, impatient part of my mind. I often knit during Quaker meetings for business, and it helps me listen.

2 What do you want to read when you finish the book you are currently reading?

“The” book I am currently reading? I’m reading “The Quakers in America”, a brand-new, very good book (which moved right to the top when I got it); “How to Cook a Wolf” by MFK Fisher; “Master and Commander”; and “The Sacred Art of Bowing.” I usually have several titles in the mix at once. Three of these are library books on interlibrary loan, which means I read ’em when I get ’em. Oh, and I’m working on the “Illiad.” I guess getting back to that is what I want to read next.

3. A compound question: When you moved from the West Coast to the East, how did you travel? Did you see or do anything particularly memorable along the way?

I flew. Or rather, I rode in an airplane. I shipped my belongings via UPS, at least the ones I wanted to take. I abandoned my futon, believing correctly that it would be cheaper just to buy a new one. I heavily weeded my collection of paperback sci-fi, fantasy, and religion/spirituality books, and spent years regretting it as I searched for hard-to-find old favorites when I needed comfort reading.

4. If you had an independent income and could live anywhere that you desire, where would you live?

I would live on the bluffs above the Pacific Ocean near Bonnie Doon, California (just north of Santa Cruz).

Or maybe London.

How big will my independent income be?

5. Have you ever been to Reading Terminal Market?

Mmmm. Sausage. The single most-missed Philadelphia experience is RTM. I used to work half a block away. Can I tell you what this meant?

Lunches: We got yer Mexican, yer Chinese, yer American diner, yer Southern, yer Thai, yer Italian, yer cheese-steaks (although, truth be told, my favorite cheesesteaks come from street trucks or Greek pizza joints); yer ice cream; yer fancy-schmancy coffees, teas, muffins, and cookies.

Dinner: Oh, to be able to buy fresh veggies daily; meat, poultry, eggs, and dairy directly from family farmers; fresh fish cut to order; whole spices in bulk; fresh artisanal bread; perfectly aged cheeses and ten kinds of olives; trendy and mundane kitchen implements; cookbooks; gewgaws; used books.

Breakfast: There is nothing better than the heavy, dare I say greasy, traditional American breakfasts served at what my friend Barbara and I affectionately call “The Amish Counter.” Once a week for several years, that’s where you’d find us, eating spuds. And, in my case, omelettes or eggs and bacon or sausage. Good, Pennsylvania-German style all-pork links, an inch in diameter and cut into two-inch sections before being broiled. (Not the sickly little bread-filled Irish breakfast links you find here in Boston.)

Be still my heart. Have I been to Reading Terminal Market, indeed.

If you would like to join the fun, here are the rules:

1 — Leave a comment, saying you want to be interviewed.
2 — I will respond; I’ll ask you five questions.
3 — You’ll update your journal with my five questions, and your five answers.
4 — You’ll include this explanation.
5 — You’ll ask other people five questions when they want to be interviewed.

The Destroyer Goddess: Part Two of In Fire Forged

Laura Resnick. Satisfying sword and sorcery read, but more blah, blah, blah on the jacket and author’s note about how this book just couldn’t, possibly, be fit into one volume. Granted, the pacing is no Robert Jordan, but come on. “[T]he only other alternative was to eliminate so many pages that the remaining story wouldn’t have made any sense.” Puh-leeze, “the only other alternative” proves the editing wasn’t so hot, so I don’t want to hear it.

The big picture

I caught an episode of Joan of Arcadia last Friday. (It’s the second time I happened to watch a show.) Pretty cool.

There was a scene where Joan (to whom God speaks through random people she encounters) tells God she needs more than hints if she’s going to do what God wants. She says she needs even just a glimpse of the big picture. God says OK, and sounds and voices (which sound mostly like war and discord sounds) come up on the soundtrack. Next thing you know, Joan is being roused by her worried mother, flat on her back on the floor.

Later there’s another encounter where she asks for “better hints” because, as she now admits, she can’t get a glimpse of the big picture without ending up flat on her back.