When Buddhas Wear Rouge They Go ROGUE!!!
Please Remind Me
Here’s what I’ve learned, you don’t need to remind people about things they really want to do.
You may have to remind people about things they don’t want to do, or about things they don’t mind doing, or about things they will do if there is nothing better to do, but if there is something that someone really, really wants to do, they don’t need a reminder.
They will check the date – see if they are available – check it again – if they are not available they will move things around in their schedule – mark it on their calendar and show up early!
What’s up with this PLEASE REMIND ME business, following an invitation?
I ain’t the fuggin dentist! The invitation is the reminder – dammit!
That’s why the dentist sends a reminder, because she knows you don’t want to go!
She’s even gotten smart enough to make you write out your own reminder, for your next visit, during your current visit; figuring if it’s in your own handwriting you will at least look at it.
Sure, life is busy. Commitments abound. Things get missed.
Hoke may need a reminder that can salmon is on sale at the Piggly Wiggly, but he doesn’t need a reminder to pick up Miss Daisy, from the Piggly Wiggly.
Life’s too short.
Write it down – remind ya self!
“…if we are able to deal with emotions directly, able to relate with them as workable, then there is no need for external aid or explanations.” ~ Chogyam Trungpa
Sitting on the Buddha’s Face
I picked up this postcard at a Buddhist meditation last year.
I enjoyed the meditation. I appreciated the discussion afterward. But the little yellow postcard with the serene image of the Buddha’s face, that listed other events the group would host on the back, is what I liked most.
I liked it so much I gave it a designated display spot on my coffee table, next to a decorative red bowl and a collection of small rare books.
I’ve noticed visitors sitting on my sofa will sit their drinks on top of this postcard. How rude. “Don’t sit on the Buddha’s face!” I tell them and they quickly move their glass or cup and tell me, “Sorry.”
I guess they assume the postcard is a coaster, and that the vintage glass coasters with my initials on them are art – art they wouldn’t dare rest their drinks on.
No, my picture of the Buddha is not a coaster. It’s just a postcard, but I’m respectful of it, in the same way I wouldn’t put my drink on top of a picture of my Mom or my favorite author.
This got me thinking about how our Christian dominate culture tends to revere all things Jesusy and debunk all things not. I wondered if people would be so apt to sit their coffee or their Cabernet on top of Jesus’ face if it rested on my coffee table instead of the Buddha’s face. And can you imagine what would happen if the title of this post was, Sitting on Jesus’ Face?
So I found an old Christmas card, of the Jesus is the reason for the season variety and cut it to postcard size. I swapped it for my Buddha postcard, just to see if guests would treat it so casually.
Not one single person partaking in my little experiment (5 out of 5) dared to soil Jesus’ face with a beverage ring. 4 of the 5 asked were the vintage coasters actually coasters and remarked how pretty they looked, as they looked for a place to place their drinks on my coffee table. The other guest held her glass in hand the entire visit and took it into the kitchen and placed it on the counter at our visit’s end.
I wanted to laugh but that would have blown my experiment, besides, what was funnier was how none of the 5 commented about me – Rougebuddha – having a picture of Jesus on my coffee table. I guess to all of them it’s just the right thing to do.
I’m going to replace the postcard, but I’m going to have it laminated first.
Dear People Who Overuse the Words I Love You,
Just stop it already, okay. It’s trite and insincere. People are pretty perceptive. We know when we are loved. When it is true, it is nice to hear and only has to be said sparingly because your actions speak so much louder than your words.
But when it is not true is when you feel the need to say it the most.
Every phone call and email does not have to end with you telling me, “I love you.”
If you love me I know it. I feel it. You’ve shown me. If you don’t love me I know it. I feel it. You’ve shown me that too. You, casually tossing the words about like a Frisbee only points to the camouflage of your insincerity. Just stop it, okay. You are not fooling anybody.
Author, Maya Angelo says, “When people tell you who they are, the first time, believe them.”
Love is considerate. Love will be inconvenienced. Love can show me much better than it can tell me.
When I tell a funny joke, you don’t have to end your laughter with a, “Girl, I love you!” Just say, “Girl you make me laugh.” When I give you a gift you really like because I’ve listened to you when you talk and I’ve heard you mention how much you’d like to have a so and so or a such and such, don’t say, “Oh, I love you.” Because that’s not love, you idiot – That’s just you getting something you’ve wanted. It’s acceptable even preferred to just say, “Thank you. I really wanted one of these.”
Love is what it is. You can’t buy it or make it out to be or out of something that it is not. I love you are valuable words I try not to throw around lightly.
Frankly, I don’t love a lot of people. There are a lot of people I enjoy. There are a lot of people I find entertaining. And there are even more people I don’t mind. But there are not a lot of people I love. If you have to wonder where you fall on this scale chances are I don’t love you either.
The people I love know it. I’ve shown them in ways that supersede the three little words. And chances are it is reciprocal – I love them and I know they love me, regardless of how often or how seldom we find ourselves saying it back and forth.
So here are 10 suggestions for honest parting salutations to use instead of the overused I love you:
- Take care.
- See you next time.
- Nice talking to you.
- Good to see you.
- Say hello to your family.
- Drop dead you ass#ole.
- You know I never liked you.
- You need a breath mint.
- Why do you only call me when you want something?
- Bye.
Most sincerely yours,
Rougebuddha
About Funerals
When my last blood relative died 2 years ago I vowed never to attend another funeral.
I can’t say for sure if I actually honored the vow or if no one I cared about enough to attend their funeral died in the last 2 years.
Then out of nowhere, like from where everything comes, 2 funerals within 2 months appeared on my docket.
I had to re-evaluate my vow.
I decided it was a stupid selfish vow, at least for me, and I’ll tell you why.
My decision to never attend a funeral again was born from a childish mindset to get back at death in some way. As if death’s feelings would be hurt if I didn’t go to the funeral death made necessary – As if, if I didn’t go, the dead person would not really be dead in some juvenile way.
Two months ago a sweet lady, aunt to a dear friend, who I affectionately called my aunt too, died.
When I got the news I instantly knew what I knew all along but was pretending I didn’t know: Funerals are not for death. Death doesn’t give a sh*t. Funerals are for the living.
Believe whatever you believe about Karma, Reincarnation, Christ or how lovely Heaven is – seeing your cold dead loved one laid out hurts like a son-of-a-bitch! Seeing your friends there to support you through that hurt even if the only support they can give is an awkward smile or a crumpled tissue from the bottom of their purse, that smells like tobacco – that support makes the hurt a scoach less painful.
Last month a savory gentleman, uncle to another dear friend, who I affectionately called my uncle too, died.
No one expected me to go to the funeral. They all knew Rouge doesn’t go to funerals. When I arrived early and stayed until the end it kind of was a little like getting back at death. While there along with the loss, there was also love and friendship and even a perfect joke that only I would have told.
You know how whenever someone dies even if they were a complete hum-dinger, at the funeral, people will wax on about what a jolly good fellow he was?
It’s respectful, but dishonest…any hoo, this uncle was a swell guy hands down but he did have a debilitating affection for the…shall we say, “brown liquor”. So dig this, as the obituary was being read it listed all the surviving family and next to last left to mourn, was a cousin, Johnnie Walker.
You know I couldn’t resist. I wrote on the back of a business card: Ok, so is this Johnnie Walker a real cousin? Then I folded it in half and passed it up to the grieving niece on the front row. Her smile lit up the entire room when she read it. She stopped crying, tickled by the irony she didn’t see until just that moment. Johnnie Walker was a real cousin. No mention if he was a Native American cousin or an African-American cousin…I mean if he was red or black (Hee He)…couldn’t resist again!
Just go to the funeral. You might get a laugh. You might not, but funerals are not about death, they are always about life.
This post was inspired by recent events and by Deirdre Sullivan’s essay, Always go to the Funeral, which can be heard read in her own voice at This I Believe.org (if you browse by themes you will find it under death from the link above).
For Entertainment Purposes Only
I first heard that snippet of legal jargon years ago when listening to the syndicated Tom Joyner Morning Show radio broadcast.
One of his cast of weekly regulars was a woman named Miss Dupree, whose segment was called, “Miss Dupree’s Winning Numbers”. The radio character was a voodoo priestess from New Orleans who would tell listeners how to select a 3-digit lottery number.
Happy Birthday Nam Myoho Renge Kyo
Today is April 28th. On this day in year 1253 a rebellious Japanese monk stood seaside and chanted the words nam (u) myoho renge kyo – possibly for the very 1st time.
Translation* Nam or Namu- a prefix of the Sanskrit word Namas, meaning devotion. The word namu expresses a feeling of reverence and devotion and is placed before the names of objects of veneration such as Buddhas, deities, sutras, and the three treasures of Buddhism (the Buddha, his teachings and the Buddhist Order.)
So I Joined a Cult Today - Hey!
(Lyrics by Rougebuddha – there is a melody I have in mind but I’m not trying to get sued. So I won’t say. I have a friend named “Trevor Kanbay” and the melody I’m thinking of rhymes with his name. If you can guess the melody feel free to sing the song in your head…you can’t get sued for that yet, right?)
