My tip-off should have been the ground fog creeping around the cold, crooked headstones. Or the raven suddenly cocking its head and flapping off, its fading, strangled cries echoing off the mausoleum walls. Or the hands of the strange, old grandfather clock inexplicably frozen at the stroke of midnight.
The signs were all there, man, but still the news came as a shock. After hours of heroic efforts, the machines have been reluctantly switched off, and the white sheet drawn over the monitor: my laptop has finally passed from this world.
This could not, of course, have happened at a more inopportune moment. I have text pending for two websites (paid gigs both, with my employers beginning to grumble about the passage of time), a PowerPoint talk to create, increasingly rapid-fire communication ahead of the trip to America, and our ever-lovin’ DODR to feed. At home, I can take care of this in my slippers, a warm cat in my lap and some steaming java to sip. At the café where I’m composing this now it was serene for a moment, until a dozen teenage boys tumbled in, firing up all around me a melange of NBA video games and hardcore pornography which stimulated them to a collective volume that would have shamed a pack of howler monkeys. The young proprietor seemed to be in cahoots, for nary a ‘tsk’ escaped his lips on behalf of his other customers. Guess which café shall no longer enjoy Brother Konchog’s patronage?
This is just one thing among many; I seem to have blundered into a karmic tarpit where everything I’m trying to accomplish is fraught with one obstacle after another. Not the least of this is the denial of US visas to half my group, with the other half in document-verification limbo hell. Not coming together at all like I envisioned. Approaching the one-year mark on this second visit, I’m feeling like a big ineffectual loser who doesn’t have the capacity to benefit anyone. Not fishing for compliments; just an honest note regarding my remarkably consistent ability to see my glass as half-empty.
On a brighter note, I and many members of my study group, along with other hangers-on, are gathering tomorrow to buy tickets to go down to the Gobi Wednesday. We intend to spend Saga Dawa Duchen, the day of the Buddha’s enlightenment and parinirvana (google it, I’m out of time), taking advantage of the sacred power of Khamar Monastery. Given current trends, I fully expect the train to be sold out, or on fire, or both.
Poor laptop. Obviously the Bach Toccata and Fugue on the guy's cell phone a few days ago was a omen and not a comment on what was happening at the time...
My dear, sit down and have a cup of tea, and look out your window at the children playing, and pet your kitties, and remember that you have enough to eat and a warm dry place to sleep and your health and many many people who love you, and your life is good. The rest of your problems will work themselves out the way they are supposed to go, and if the train is on fire, then it is not to punish you but because it is what it is supposed to be, even if it's not what you think should happen or what you want. Be at peace! I am sending you an extra prayer and blessing to help out a little. Don't forget the tea.
Posted by: Kay In New Mexico | May 27, 2007 at 09:20 AM
It it together about this glass half empty BS (I was going to use much stronger language until I read Kay's Bidhisattvic post). What you are doing is vital and beneficial to more beings than you know. Obstacles happen. Pray and work to overcome them but there's only so much one can do. Be seeing you at Kalachakra. Rest and take heart. Can you find another machine or cafe to work on?
Posted by: Kirt Undercoffer | May 27, 2007 at 09:47 AM
Well Venerable one, like the Micheal Jackson song says you are not alone.
Seems to be some strange juju going on. I'm afraid to go outside lest I be immolated by a flaming meteor. Well thats one way to look at it, might as well dust oneself off and get back up and be thankful for human birth and all that good stuff and realize that trouble don't last always. Anyway that's my story and I'm sticking to it. Hope to see you for a cuppa or two after I get to UB on June 9.
Posted by: Steve Ford | May 27, 2007 at 11:29 AM
Konchog-la, I hope the days get brighter. The wonderful work you are doing generates a huge amount of merit. The karma will eventually ripen. And that's about as close to any point of faith you're likely to hear from me.
Posted by: Zendette | May 27, 2007 at 02:58 PM
Kid says "je veux le consoler..."
:-) We here at the Fuzzy household think you're pretty amazing. And we also hope a new laptop lands in your lap. Because the positive energy you put out into the world has to come back, and dude, your energy has meant the world to me.
Posted by: Lee Ann | May 27, 2007 at 05:56 PM
OKOKOK! You guys know I exaggerate for comic effect, but still, the obstacles and time-wasters have been beyond belief. I'm afraid of all your comments, I only nodded when I read Steve's about the meteor. But! I really love the little virtual community we've created here, and appreciate any of you chiming in. It was remarkably therapeutic just to write this yesterday and share it with y'áll. Oh, and all my data got saved, so at least that.
Oh, and Kay? I'd have tea but my flipping teapot recently developed a big ol' crack and leaks! Is that part of the divine plan!? Ahem. I am, nevertheless, still deeply enjoying the coffee you sent me. And Nita, unlike Mooj, loves catnip, so those toys have been resurrected and happily mangled.
Kirt! You'll be at Kalachakra? How about HHPR at KPC? Look forward to hanging with you!
Stevie-baby: maybe a quick suutei tsai. I'll be leaving on the 12th.
Posted by: Konchog | May 27, 2007 at 09:07 PM
Since Lama Konchog is not going to ask, I will put my feet in the dishes: how can we, DODR readers, help?
I mean, our funniest lama is on the verge of losing his sense of humour... There must be something we can do.
So, what about asking around for an unwanted laptop? Since the main applications seem to be networking and document editing, it would do.
How much for a used laptop on e-bay?
Posted by: Christian | May 28, 2007 at 01:10 AM
No no. Verboten! If you have some extra pesos you don't know what to do with, click the lefthand garuda button and give to the project. It was enough of a contradiction of my precepts that I asked people for coffee last year. I'll work out the computer thing when I get to the States. And don't worry. My sense of humor (h/t Monty Python) isn't deceased. It's merely pining for the fjords...
Posted by: Konchog | May 28, 2007 at 04:37 AM
Have the glaciers melted yet? Is your voice gone so you cannot say mantra? Has your root lama fallen into a pit?
To paraphrase:
Ah, drama, thy name is lama!
Seriously, (so that you not think I lack compassion) I send you some hugs, the good news that His Holiness looks great, (he's at the Palyul Center right now), and the advice that tea can be cooked in a saucepan.
This is your own Y2K with the computer. Have faith that it will be reborn to serve the Dharma once again, maybe incarnate as a tulku computer that you can recognize in a store.
Again, hugs and tea....
Posted by: Samaya | May 28, 2007 at 07:34 AM
What's wrong with giving some object to a monk who didn't ask for it but needs it?
You need a computer to work in order to make some little extra money to live. How does that fit with the Vinaya, by the way?
(I am a fan of the Monty Python!)
Posted by: Christian | May 29, 2007 at 09:33 AM
Teapot bust? Oi. Make tea in cup. As Samaya says, make tea in saucepan. Drink water instead. Do a meditation. Tea will come when it's time.
Posted by: Kay In New Mexico | May 29, 2007 at 09:36 AM
Okay, you don't want consolation, you don't want sympathy, you don't want money. How about a joke?
Re: glass half full/empty. My econ major son tells me that to an economist, this says that the glass is bigger than it needs to be.
Okay, not up to MP humor standards, but still kinda funny, in an economist kind of way :-)
Posted by: kmkat | June 13, 2007 at 06:08 PM