Buddha

It's interesting. I walked in the door this evening after a bitch of a day, long hours and lots of stress, to find The Buddha on PBS. I've watched it before, but never the full program...still haven't.

I say it's interesting because I was in the mood to complain, curse, and generally be snarly. But I got caught up in The Buddha instead. My snarly, cursing self could not coexist with that program. So I cooled a bit.

Was it my recognition that my anger and upset are useless in the face of reality? Was it that I understood the teaching that anger is the less attractive face of compassion? Was it that I was ashamed to be so obviously self-centered and self-pitying that I simply had to chill?

Don't know. Don't care. I am in another mood, and that's good. I'm trying to find the beauty in this moment. And I've found amazement and beauty in looking at my hands and saying to myself: "They are amazing. How could such things come to be?"

It's not conceit or self-love that brings that out, either.