I’ve been rather involved in money living with my mom and then after mom passed away. I decided to put some of the money from the sale of the home in stocks.
While some of the money I invested did well some of it did not. The best investment I made was in Apple. I also invested in Amazon which has become quite a dog. Mad Dog, Jim Cramer recommended Amazon and it went up to way over what I paid but I didn’t sell it then and now it is in the abyss of low prices. I would recommend buying it as it seems to go up and down like this. If I can hold on until it goes up again, I will sell it then because I will need it.
I have had to sell Pfizer, Plum Creek Lumber Company and Caterpillar at losses. Wait, I think I was up a dollar or two on CAT. I sold them to put money in the bank so I can pay my rent and bills. I have, by the way one of those accounts where you have to keep $1,000 in it to keep it going. I will have to get rid of that to avoid the penalties. It will mean getting rid of my money market account but it will be worth it. I wil just put the money in the MMA into my checking. There isn’t much there anymore.
I pray that God’s Grace will bring me into better straits soon. The lessons I have started with D.R. Butler, which you may know of if you follow me on Facebook or which I may have mentioned here at WordPress have greatly encouraged me and I feel like things are Getting Better all the time.
Last night, Seinfeld told a joke about the Beatles song by that name. As you may know the singer sings, “I used to bad to my woman I beat her and kept her apart from the things that she loved” but things were getting better. I swear I have never beat a woman and I hope I haven’t kept any of them from the things that they love but it is getting better, it’s getting better all the time.
Just coming to the realization that my brothers are not my brothers.
Do you understand that?
You might also work on my friends are not my friends.
This, after reading a bit of Mother Jones then going to my online bank account and seeing my money woes. Just knowing that my high school graduate, 4 years of Air Force, retired from the Long Island Railroad brother doesn’t read a Mother Jones brought me to the realization. When I see him I always greet him warmly but I don’t see him much and he is always a little different. Lately, after many years of being an extreme right wing nut (though he keeps no guns and couldn’t fight his way out of paper bag) he disclosed he liked John Edwards. He had moved to North Carolina in the 90’s and I presume this is why.
Then I have another brother who doesn’t vote. He dropped out of high school but he has always had a job whether it was a cook at mental institution where we lived in N.Y. or a cabbie in his hometown of Greenpoint or a Kirby salesman and lastly a laborer at the Veterans Hospital here in Florida. He’s a handicapped man who because of his handicap couldn’t be drafted nor could he join. He loved Elvis and convertibles. Now he plays golf, the new pool.
These are big brothers, the ones that are supposed to show you the way. I didn’t follow their way, going to community college and smoking pot. Now I follow yoga, Siddha Yoga, and they are not that way, either. My mom died, with whom I lived for the past 30 or was it 40 years and what the big brothers have done has been invite me to dinner and e-mail me. They both came to the funeral that they graciously let me pay for (with mom’s money). They don’t resent that mom left me whatever she had including her house in rural Florida but it’s just that they are strapped for cash. They’ve been strapped for cash since the 60’s when all that mess about the war happened. Oh, in 1970, in Florida, I lost my virginity. I wonder if that affected our relationship. Certainly, it would appear, marriage and my mom’s move to Florida with her husband (my father) changed some things. No more swinging rides in the convertible with the oldest, the handicapped brother and no more playing catch with that other one.
Surely, I wouldn’t care if I was still smoking dope and rockin’ and rollin’ but the friends who used to do that with me have decided to take things seriously, devote themselves to their careers and raise families. Even that might not matter to me if I could get a job and make a living.
But, it’s all the mind my Guru tells me. It’s nothing but the mind.
I remember when I met Gurumayi, a woman named Kathleen took me up to in front of the DARSHAN line and she told me to speak to Gurumayi, introduce myself and I gave her my name and address. Oh, my God. Can you believe that? I was wearing this gray pinstriped suit, that I didn’t at all like but I bought taking advantage of my mother and the event of my father’s death. Oh, a funeral, good time to buy some new clothes. [The same thing occurred when my much dearer mother passed into the astral worlds. Suit and shoes. This time black.]
So, the odd thing about this, this recounting my name and address, and it just only now came to me, was there was a phone call before my first intensive to my local center. The sevite who spoke to us wanted everyone to speak, have a word with them and a comment on the theme of the intensive, which as I remember had something to do with that great verse from the 23rd Psalm, I Shall Dwell in the House of the Lord Forever. I recall saying that I had been living with my father and mother for many years due to unemployment and suspension from the University of Florida on scholastic merits and that I was actually quite weary of it. I said or suggested something like that in the phone call.
Now the house is gone. It’s sold to pay the credit cards and I’m living in a little apartment in another town, nearby, but not as quiet. I’m right on its main street and it’s a little busier than the fishing town I lived in before. I say it’s a fishing town because I lived right on a lake there. I did a lot of tapas there. How so, you ask. Well, chanting, not drinking and smoking, eating vegetarian, being obedient to my mother and father. Obedience to mom wasn’t that hard, but that old man was a different thing. I used to be his remote control. Turn that damn shit oft, he used to say.
Early in my computer/Internet career I would post on a discussion board called Live Wire. It was created and run by Mother Jones or motherjones.com. I found what we called a keyboard friend there who lived in Maryland and called herself Toad Woman. She defended government run programs against those who wanted corporatize everything. She was employed by a computer company whose name escapes me, Linux it wasn’t but something similar back in the old days, not unix either. She told me I should get a job with
So, we talked a lot about my personal situations. One day I described my father to her. She said he sounded like a simple man. Yes, actually, dad was quite dear to many as a simple man living in a complicated world. Today, I thought of how a simple man who loved his son might think of his son’t Associates degree. “Well, son, ” he says, “I had never heard of a degree like that before but I’m proud of you for earning it.” That, uh, never happened.
When we moved to Florida, Dad revealed to us, odd that he should include mom who knew more about it than he did, that we would be earning a find stipend for the next couple of years which would include his retirement and his salary. With that fine stipend (a word he didn’t use) he bought me a 1964 Ford Falcon which he and his older brother painted themselves (a kind of Navy khaki) and which had no radio. It was $300. I had been in a wreck in my mom’s car, a car Dad boasted of having “given” mom as women in those days didn’t go out and buy cars. It was yellow 1966 Falcon. I was 17 and allowed to use the car and I proceeded with a rather rapid rolling stop at a sign and got smashed in the left side. It totaled the car. The car according to the insurance company was only worth $900. They gave us that money I presume and the car was sent to the junk yard, I’m guessing as I don’t know what is done with totaled out cars. Because I was a wild and free young man I was given this hunk of junk to go to high school and community college. He seemed to be more in charge of thing since we had moved to the state where he grew up, or growed up as mom used to say, mocking the down home ignorance of my father and his people. Being ignorant, too, I presume he didn’t know how to encourage a college career, as besides being ignorant he was also cheap.
Just how simple are men like my father, Toad? I think they are very complicated in that they try to get even for wounds incurred in the past and never forgive. When I was young someone told me my father was trying to buy my love. I immediately brooded over the next gift he bought me, a beautiful electric green car. It’s hard to remember now but I think it was like a remote controlled car except that it had a long wire attached. I loved it but nobody was “buying my love,” so I rejected it in spirit. It was a sad moment but who knows what buying love might mean.
Later when I became the great left wing liberal that wanted desegregation and an end to the war I got the idea of what buying love was about. There was nothing simple about it.
Must I subdue my sexual nature to meditate and realize the eternal self?
I’m reading about the importance of the present moment. It’s all there is. Adidam said that very well in his tapes and books but here it is again in D.R. Butler’s lessons.
I was reading about ojas today. I remembered it from Baba Muktananda and Ram Dass. A subtitle of Be Here Now was from bindu to ojas. Muktananda said, somewhere, the indexes often fail me these days, something about meditation eating the ojas. So, I looked up ojas (and tejas as I remember them being paired) hoping to help some of us who are dieting. I came across one link that was simple and direct and another that spoke of subduing or “transmuting” our sexual passions. It spoke of Vaishnavism and although I know some Siddhas have been Vaishnavas, usually it is ISKCON who is a Vaishnava although they qualify it again with Gaudiya, indicating it’s geographical origins (they are from the province of Gauda).
Still this is a site with a ying yang emblem as it’s logo. Looking further inot the matter I discovered the latter site is a site based on the book Cupid’s Poison Arrow. I watched a video from the site which was pretty interesting. It covered a current topic about loving relationships.
I guess I don’t have to fear a surge of “get celibate” or “get brahmacharya” just yet. By the way, you may like to visit Ram Dass’ website while you are fiddling about.
I’m reading D.R. Butler’s lesson number 1. I’m familiar with a lot of this. I’m familiar with the present moment. My learning comes from Adidam Samraj though. I bought some of his books and tapes.
Sometimes when I wake up and I want focus I say, this moment. I know that Shiva is the moment and so this way I focus on the deity of the mantra. This has developed for me that Shiva is the deity. He is like Ram, Krishna or God. When we embrace a concept of God something happens. Although I was repeating Om Namah Shivaya I was missing the Shiva. It was like my subconscious mind was sneering at this name, Shiva.
I used to like to equate Christ and Krishna but I neve saw that in Shiva. Few books have been written harmonizing Shiva and Christ. That’s the reason.
Guru and Christ much more likely than Shiva and Christ. Still it depends on your belief. There’s a book that has been written. They refer to Jesus’ statement, “according to you faith be it done to you.” Yogananda, particularly, according to my memory, speaks of the form of your belief. If you belief Shiva is God, God will appear to you as Shiva. We’ve seen this in science fiction and maybe they borrowed the idea from the Indian Yogis. Autobiograpy of a Yogi was written in the 50’s. Yogananda died early in that decade. I’m just referring to my recall. I don’t have the books with the copyrights here before me.
So, as the lesson said to have good memories inot your mind instead of bad this memory has been a good one.