Buddhist chants and Hawaiian dreams

I’m sitting in my mom’s living room at 7:00am listening to Buddhist chanting, with my stepfather beside me eyes closed, heart open. Yesterday we visited the Maitreya Project Heart Shrine Relic Tour, at the Maui Community College, and as we sat in the room containing the relics, these pearls which are said to be the remains of Buddha’s long gone, but certainly not forgotten, one couldn’t help but feel the incredible vibrations that overwhelm the body. The mind. The ego. Everything I knew dissolved as hand poured pure nectar over baby Buddha in an attempt to cleanse my self of attachments and obstructions. Of course never cleansed entirely, just for brief moments in time, if that at all.

The chanting has brought the sun up over Maui, welcomed it with prayers and prostrations. What a beautiful morning in paradise.

The most hectic week led me to this moment of sheer bliss, this moment of serenity and contentment. Last Friday and Saturday in Vegas, Sunday and Monday in LA, Tuesday Wednesday in Oakland, Thursday Friday in Vegas, all the while back to SD in between to sleep in my own sheets, Saturday in LA and then Sunday a flight to Maui, nothing has been more climatic than when I missed my flight out here. A friend of mine was supposed to take me to the airport. Never showed (most likely because we were out drinking the previous night), just like the yellow cab I called. Well they did show, but an hour later than I expected. So I actually left in my car for the airport, and upon reaching the top of the hill separating my house and the airport, realized there is no way in hell I am going to make this flight. Admittedly, I broke down. I started crying. I never miss a flight. Especially one to see my mom, in paradise. I cried big alligator tears as I drove down toward the airport, on the phone with my mother, knowing full well I never should have left my travel plans in my buddy’s drunken hands. I shouldn’t have gone for that run in the misty morning. I should have got up, packed, called yellow cab, and gone, no dilly dally. I drove to the stop sign at the top of the hill, and through tears, decided to turn around. Get on another flight. No amount of me rushing would guarantee making the flight, and with the previous week, the entire culmination of events finally breaking my hard working spirit, I thought “Just go home. Catch the next flight. Take a couple bong loads and relax.” And I did just that.

Which is good because I almost threw up when the Hawaiian air guy told me its an extra $250 to change the flight. “But if I were to book an entirely new flight right now, it would be $323? Why isn’t it just the difference?” At which point I realized he has no fucking clue, and why in the world would I expect him to know the answer to this kind of question. The guys just works here. He’s not trying to fuck me over, he doesn’t care at all what the upgrade is. He’s just reading the screen. So I gave him my card, apologized for my rude line of questioning, and carried on through security with my new ticket in hand. I figure, why complain about an extra 250. I would pay an extra thousand to see my mom (but don’t tell the airlines that….). And with the way the week has gone, all I wanted is to be on my way to Hawaii.

And now that I’m here, it all makes sense. Every single move I made. All the traveling, and bullshit. All the nonsense, and “forced compassion”. All to bring me here. This moment.

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~ by Penny Flame on February 25, 2008.

One Response to “Buddhist chants and Hawaiian dreams”

  1. Penny,

    This such a sweet post. You are such a beautiful and eloquent person. I really look forward to reading more of your work in the future.

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