Oil Pastels and the Sangha

      I ended up not going to the Tibetan Buddhist temple.  I decided that I didn't want to have to start over -- meeting new people, getting used to a new type of spiritual practice and maybe getting involved too deeply with an organization.
      So, I decided to let things be.
      Instead, I signed up for an oil pastel class.  I had really liked oil pastels when I had used them, years ago, in high school.  It was drawing and painting at the same time, and I had made a portrait of a classmate that I remember vividly.  (Why didn't I save it? Did I give it to him?)  My boyfriend was supportive, too, so I thought I should go ahead with it.

Tom with my portait of him.

       I really enjoyed the class and the teacher.  I'm now geared up to produce some more artwork.  (The picture above was made with oil pastels and color pencils -- my first large work in many years.)
       Along with the class, something interesting happened.  My teacher, Carol, mentioned that she had attended a "sangha" (Buddhist group) in Long Beach, Washington.  "Really?" I said.  "Did you have many attendees?  I just can't imagine a Buddhist group in Long Beach, of all places!" I chuckled. "Yes, it was established by my husband and it's still going. We're starting a little sangha here."  I was all ears by then, believe me!   "A sangha here? "  "Would you like to come?," she asked.  Would I! 
        So I went to the little sangha and found that it was perfect, just what I wanted.  It's a small group, no bricks and mortar, no tithes, no massive organization.  We practice meditation and then discuss various Buddhist ideas.  I presented a talk on "right livelihood" myself a couple of weeks ago.   It's deep, Buddhism, and I have seen positive changes in myself, and a much more sustained meditation practice at home, since I have attended the group.  And since this is a Theraveda sangha, there is no frippery or pie-in-the-sky nonsense you have to plow through.  It's all about you polishing your soul.
         I can only thank all-seeing Providence for this! 
       

Day two of my blog! I cleaned a really gnarly part of my basement yesterday. A good friend of mine helped me. There were lots of spiders, some of ghastly shape and large size. It's a corner of the basement in which the spiders LOVE to congregate.
A strange sort of resurrection/archeology ensued from this project. Under the cobwebs, spider crap and dust was a box full of my artist supplies from who knows when. There was a photo of my ex-husband, taken by me on a trip to San Francisco. The photo was of him in his cowboy hat, face forward, with the ocean behind him. (It was on a beach in southern Oregon.) There was a pair of turquoise pants, neatly folded, under a couple of rolled up blankets.
It was interesting that the art supplies were "unearthed," you might say, because I am thinking of taking a pastel class at our community college this fall. There is a box of almost pristine pastels with those art supplies. I also found that I could be sardonically amused by the photo of my ex-husband. No more pain or regret about him. The turquoise pants -- well, maybe I need a pair of that color now, right?