Playing Golf with Tiger Woods

 This weekend I said, “Happy Trails” to Kirstin and John. Will I ever see them again? Yes, but maybe not in the corporal sense. You never know what could happen.

Sometimes when people pass out of our lives, we can carry so much of them in our hearts that they will never die or go away. Other times in the mourning process, we mourn not for the person, but for ourselves; we want more of that person.

The Orange County Syndrome: “good enough, isn't good enough. I want more.”

Kirstin showed me her latest blog entry while I was at her house. I was so excited to read it on the computer that it was originally written on. It was, as everything she writes always is, a work of heartfelt beauty. Sharing writing with her is like playing golf with Tiger Woods; you feel honored, incapable and silly all the same time. If you're comfortable by being embarrassed, playing golf with Tiger Woods and sharing writing with Kirstin is the same thing.

The piece she wrote was entitled, “Celebration”. You can read it on snowbirdredux.com. It was about scattering ashes of loved ones that had passed.

 Kirstin's mother, Harriet was someone I knew. I do mourn her passing. I never really got enough of her, but that is probably more of my 'Orange County Syndrome'. If I had spent more time around Harriet, I'm sure she could have taught me the true meaning of joy. Joy is something I'm just now learning how to live with and express. I need to learn “ good enough should be good enough.”

 Kevin was Kirstin's son. I only met him a few times. It was like talking to all the exuberant witty and thoughtful parts of myself. Sometimes when you see parts of yourself in others, it makes you feel good about yourself. Other times when you meet someone with all your “less developed qualities,” you feel like a jerk. Kevin made me feel good about myself. Kevin's life on this planet was cut short, but he lives so vibrantly in the hearts of his mother and his sister, that his life is still inside of them.

I have friends and family that live in my heart too. I don't constantly mourn them because I still have so much of them that lives on inside of me. At my ripe old age, there are also people that are still alive now that I won't have to mourn too much when they die. So much of them will continue to live within me.

To effectively move through the mourning process, you need to get past the Orange County Syndrome. 'Good enough' is sometimes all you get. In the larger picture, that is all you're supposed to get. Otherwise, you don't appreciate what you had or what you have; you just want more.

How to learn to meditate

 “Church, you want to start going to church?” A moment of horror struck me when my former girlfriend Karlee mentioned this some 30 years ago.

“Christ, I hate going to church!” That's what I said 30 years ago. I don't hate church anymore: Sometimes it's fun, sometimes it's meaningful.

At the time, she suggested this endeavor, my religious activities were confined to Zen, sex, drugs and rock 'n roll; not always in that order.

“It doesn't have to be like it was when you were a kid. There are different kinds of churches,” she was making every effort to go easy on me.

“Let's try two churches and see which one you like,” she suggested.

“Well, all right...”

Both 'churches' were okay. One of them was a 'foundation.' By California law, a church must have a registered set of beliefs. The one that was classified as a foundation refused to do this. You can easily guess which one I liked best. Both of these places had meditation classes. “Hey, I can go for that!” I said at the time (maybe I could get out of church, if I took a meditation class at night).

I was doing my best to preserve this relationship with Karlee, she had weird ideas that were different from my weird ideas. Besides being stunningly beautiful, (what a schnoz this woman had!) she was a great talker. When I think of all the girlfriends in my life, she could out talk anyone. A lot of men hate this. I didn't. Still don't.

So anyway, I went to one of the classes at one of the churches. Man, it was cool. Esoteric head centered stuff was right up my alley. “Let's go to the other one!” I said. I'm getting into this now. I'm 23 years old. I'm the youngest 'FNG' (Fairly New Guy) in the class and getting a lot of support from the other people in the class. I don't think Karlee went to the second class, maybe she did. This was no longer about doing what she wanted. I wanted to learn to meditate. In any case, I walked into the second class at the other church, and there is this raving beautiful woman talking to the instructor, waving her hands, talking a mile a minute.

Oh, oh, focus, focus: “Lee, you've got a girlfriend quit looking at other women.” I can do this, I said to myself at the time and sat down in a metal folding chair.(Metal folding chairs are a good way to meditate. They keep you in your head.) I listened to this woman, but resisted looking at her. Then she stopped talking and leaned back into her chair. When she leaned back in her chair, in the seat next to her, was a much younger woman, still and poised. She was wearing a thick white ribbed sweater with red trim, nothing provocative. Although she was very young (at this point in my life, only older women were attractive to me) she was one of the most stunning women I had ever seen.

“So how is this going to work?” I remember saying to myself, “this must be some kind of a karmic test of my will.” I endured it. It was a struggle to sit through the class and not look at these two women.

After the class, the attractive older woman came up to me and introduced herself. “Hello my name is Kirsten... yada yada yada. This is my daughter, Muse.”

I don't remember much of that first conversation, except, trying not to make it obvious that I was gee-gawing both of them.

Where the heck was Karlee through all of this? I don't remember. But by God, I was determined to learn how to meditate. Damn the gunboats, full speed ahead. I consciously subsided any lower desires that I may have had while I was in class. Outside of class, well, I lost my composure. I would think about them: Kirstin's profuse verbal soliloquies, and Muse's stunning composure. How long did this go on? Years. At some point, I broke up with Karlee, not because of Kirstin or Muse, but because Karlee suspected I was having an affair with another attractive woman in class. (I was just friends with that woman also. Okay, sure, I thought about it. It was the plague of being a 20-some-year-old male.)

Referring back to the title “how to learn to meditate.” It's not about shutting things out. Take everything with you. Don't obsess, but on the other hand, don't deny perceptions. Everything has its place in human consciousness, just keep it in its place. Tough to do if you're a male in your 20's.

Sometime  during all of this, after Karlee was out of the picture, Muse and I went to the Orange Street Fair. She was a lot of fun to be around. She could easily flit from one thought to another. Her mother Kirstin on the other hand, was extremely focused and direct in her conversation. Muse and I were lounging on the grass on the traffic circle in Orange. At this point in Muse's life, she was probably still cute and pretty, not yet elevated to beautiful status. But hey, I'm in my 20's. It's worth a shot. I say something like, “How about if we have sex sometime?”

“Nah, I don't think so,” was Muse's reply, something simple and calm.

Now with most women in my life, when that question gets popped, there is an uncomfortable distance from there on out. Not so with Muse. On the way home from the street fair she was more comfortable, and talked with less inhibition. Once the ice was broken, it was free sailing. Most guys would say, “What a bummer...” Well, I was weird. Now I knew that Muse was weird too.

That was, and is, magic.

After 30 years, she still knows me better than anyone. We call each other 'friends'. I am really more of a fan and she is a celebrity. She does get ticked off when I put her on a pedestal.

Muse, I put a lot of woman on pedestals.

Take a number.

Get over it.

Thirty-some years later, Muse has become a beautiful wise sage. I'm always learning a lot from her. What could she possibly learn from me? Well, she could learn to take compliments a little more graciously...

Her mother Kirstin? I don't talk to her nearly as much as I talk to Muse these days. Kirstin writes a blog that I read every day. I can feel her heart and poetry in everything she writes. Is it just because I know her? I don't think so. This woman really can write. And honestly, even though her daughter is the Muse, Kirstin can take a lot of credit for putting me in front of this keyboard as much as I am.

Kirstin is moving far away to Minnesota. As long as she writes her blog, I can still be with her every day. I won't be saying 'good bye' to her this weekend when I go to her house, I'll just be saying 'Happy Trails.'

How to learn to Meditate? Your consciousness really can handle everything you've ever done. Our teacher used to say, “Conserve Substance, it has its limits. Utilize Consciousness, it is limitless.” If you are a 20 year old male, buck up dude. You'll eventually stop chasing tail, you'll start chasing rainbows and eventually the gold you find will be pure light. It may take 30 years, but dude, its one helluva ride.

Happy Trails.