Personal Story

Artwork by Bruce Zboray    www.bruce-zboray.artistwebsites.com


My grandmother on my father’s side lived with us. Well, it was really her house, so I guess we lived with her. She came from Hungary when my aunt and uncle were very young. She spoke only Hungarian.

Every Sunday she would put on a small, flat brimmed hat, a black floral dress, and walk two miles, to the Russian Orthodox Church, which had seven spires shaped like candles. It looked right out of Russia.

I love to read Haiku. The idea is to capture the essence, actually the feeling, of something in just a few words.

Some of them are timeless, as is this one by the Japanese poet Gomei:

One chestnut, only one,
Is all his tiny hands can hold,
My little baby son. (Gomei)

There is something really special about a candle flame.

It feels alive. It actually glows.

I like to eat dinner with a candle. There’s a moodiness that just seems so right, like we’re in a higher presence.

I tried an interesting meditation practice. I stare at a candle as long as possible without blinking, and then close my eyes. I was surprised to see the yellow flame, with my eyes closed, turn into a deep purple box. It was so clear. It was amazing.

I was going to a church service that had a singer
Who sang the bible
Who was suppose to be an amazing pastor
I really want to go to it
I found out about in on Facebook of all places
The concert event was totally sold out
I just sensed I need to be there I should be there
I took the drive it was in Waterbury Ct
It was this really cool church that was
In the middle of a neighborhood
There were cars parked all over the place it was jamming
I walked in and was greeted and said I know the concert was sold out

“Tie a yellow ribbon.”

I remember there was a time in my life when I had to let something go that was just - oh, I didn’t want to let it go. It was a person, and I prayed and I asked God to help me let go, and I went to this event where there were balloons, and we were out in the meadow, and I said, “You know what, they said to place your cares and worries in your balloon and let it drift off, knowing that God hears and God will take of it.”

I love walking in a meadow of tall grasses. It’s like wading though dry water. I can hear the “swish, swish” of the grasses as they speak among themselves.

And then the best part – the high pitch hum of the crickets. Not individual crickets, but all of them united – one unending, beautiful sound. I always really like this sound, and look forward to hearing it. However, it became even more profound for me after I started meditating many years ago. Within 3 days, my ears started ringing during meditation with exactly this sound of the crickets.

We loved going to the Kimberly Diner.

It was very small, and the patrons were very loud, but the food was very good - simple things, breakfast and lunch food.

The waitress and owner would call everyone “Happy people,” as in her greeting, “Hello, happy people,” or “What can I get for you happy people?”

That’s why we called it the Happy People Diner.

One day, as we were paying, I casually asked the cashier, “So how’s it going?” He replied immediately, and surprisingly, “Another day in paradise.”

I was amazed. What an interesting thing to say.

I talk to plants. I mean, I don’t do this every day, but I have talked with some plants. I read how to do this in a book, The Secret Teachings of Plants, and I decided to try it myself.

I move my awareness to the middle of my chest. It’s usually in the middle of my head. I see it like a ball of white light moving from my head to my heart. I close my eyes, and tell the plant, “I want to speak with you and learn from you.” It also helps if I imagine myself filling the plant – into its leaves, into its branches, into its trunk, into its roots.

I like to be near the animals – the farm animals.

Maybe it’s a memory of an earlier, quieter, idyllic time. Perhaps it’s not a memory, but a longing for that time.

The animals are so direct. It seems like they present themselves totally, nothing hidden. The sheep and lambs just ask you to feel their wool – deep, curly wool, that you you can sink your hands into. Once one starts “baa’ing,” the others start too, and soon everyone of them is “baa’ing.”

Many years ago, there was a day when I wanted my two young children to pick up sticks and branches in the yard.

They didn’t want to do it. They saw it as work - my work.

So I told them the branches are really lambs, and we need to bring them together over there in a pile. That worked wonders. They were very happy to bring all these stray lambs together. A little “baaaa’ing” helped too.