A humpback whale freed by divers from a tangle of crab trap lines near the Farallon Islands nudged its rescuers and flapped around in what marine experts said was a rare and remarkable encounter.

“It felt to me like it was thanking us, knowing that it was free and that we had helped it,” James Moskito, one of the rescue divers, said Tuesday. “It stopped about a foot away from me, pushed me around a little bit and had some fun.”
This story appeared on the front page of the San Francisco Chronicle, December 14th 2005.

Autobiography in Five Short Chapters
Taken from ‘There’s a Hole In My Sidewalk’ by Portia Nelson

CHAPTER ONE
I walk down the street.
There is a deep hole in the sidewalk.
I fall in.
I am lost…. I am helpless.
It isn’t my fault.
It takes forever to find a way out.

CHAPTER TWO
I walk down the same street.
There is a deep hole in the sidewalk.
I pretend I don’t see it.
I fall in again.
I can’t believe I am in this same place.
But, it isn’t my fault.
It still takes a long time to get out.

CHAPTER THREE
I walk down the same street.
There is a deep hole in the sidewalk.
I see it is there.
I still fall in…it’s a habit…but,
my eyes are open.
I know where I am.
It is my fault.
I get out immediately.

CHAPTER FOUR
I walk down the same street.
There is a deep hole in the sidewalk.
I walk around it.

CHAPTER FIVE
I walk down another street.

A friend pointed me to this poem. Since I see it speaking so clearly of how ‘habit energy’ (karma) works I thought it worth sharing here. Although this piece is pointing to lifetime steps they can be played out in a shorter time frame as well. For example there is the ever present ‘hole’ of thinking negatively about oneself which works on the mind, moment to moment. Trouble is, the hole can become so familiar and therefore comfortable, that the need for or the possibility of getting out, evaporates.

Now I wonder how I ever managed, now that both computers are upstairs in the same room. No more all-day-long migrations from upstairs to downstairs and back again. Toggling between computers. Sometimes I’d think, “This is crazy”, and “I’ve got to do something about this”. Trouble was I knew it involved a huge upheaval. Moving a computer can be a nightmare of cables and connectors, and who knows if everything will work after it’s been pulled apart. And there are the spare desks that need to find new homes. Worse, during a move, there is all that untamed office ‘stuff’, paper clips, staplers, elastic bands, labels (so many kinds of label) spilling over every available surface.

Today conditions ripened for a move culminating this evening with two desks being taken away in a U-Haul truck on route to become part of a young couples first new home together. Everything is working OK and the unruly paper clips are trapped behind a curtain for the moment. They and the rest of the rabble can have their freedom for now.

We would have upheaval days in the monastery, sometimes they lasted several days. Offices would be moved, people would move, furniture would move and garden carts full of stuff would be moved. During one such day I remember walking the cloister with a fellow monk who was a bit put out. Somewhat insensitively I chatted on enthusiastically about how good I thought it was because moving stuff brought the truth of impermanence before us. True, however my timing was poor.

Well anyway. Over the years I’ve grown to enjoy sorting and shifting, de-cluttering and taming stuff and then vacuuming up afterwards. All the same, there remains the tendency to put off making moves.

This posting is dedicated to those who are poised on the brink of a move. “Come on in the water’s fine”.
Oh, and good fortune to the couple starting there new life to-day.

Sifting through papers this afternoon I came upon this piece sent to me by a dear friend in Southern California. I think she included it in a care package, December before last.