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BROOK · 09-03-2009, 05:26 PM

In the Spirit of GIVING

In April I called in to the talk show and shared my tale of woe. I had come out of my fourth shoulder surgery which was unsuccessful. The surgeon had called with news that I needed a total joint replacement. I went into a tailspin, but then remembered that it was my choice to suffer. Pain, as you have said, is inevitable but suffering is optional.
At the threshold of a breakthrough.
I will be getting the Titanium shoulder with the chrome finish. No biggie.
But I had, a few weeks earlier, dedicated my practice with a charity garden to give produce to my neighbors as a means of generating donations to the Africa project. I was limited in my physical activities but had laid out with string the size of the new and bigger garden. Now, I am a can-do kind of guy. A rugged New Englander who built his own clinic, house, boat and worked as a grease ball mechanic to get me and my family thru grad school. But asking for help? No thank you. I can do it myself.
But now I couldn’t. What we would do for others we wouldn’t do for our self. So, I picked up the phone and let go of my identity. “Hey, I need a hand tilling the soil for this charity garden…”
Well, the help came. And came. And came. Hours and hours of sweaty backs and smiles and lemonade. A few times I went out to the garden and laughed. I was part of something bigger than my egoic will. And it felt wonderful even though the shoulder was paining me something bad.
A half dozen professional growers jumped at the chance to donate starter plants, seaweed fertilizer and steer manure. I played classical music with sonic overlays to stimulate plant growth, sprayed exotic mist laden with secret mystery to increase flowering. A neighbor brought blossoming plants to attract pollinating bees. Another gave me materials to build a farm stand in front of my house with a roof and a hand-painted sign offering free food and the invitation to support needy kids in a slum in Africa. People brought plastic bags for others to take home the free produce. Others brought fruit from their trees to share at my little oasis of generosity.
It is still early in the season, I have some one hundred plants pumping out delicious food. A friend came over to visit, I plied him with Swiss Chard, cucumbers and zucchini squash and little gold tomatoes. The next morning he invited me over for dinner and presented me with two gold maple leaf coins as a donation. I mean he gets a few gold tomatoes from me and gives me $1920 in gold. I came home to my desk and opened the new video on Kantolomba, the coins in my hand.

I don’t know if it was the faces of the children, their elders, the voices singing Acapella or the living compassion at work, but it squeaked open my heart a little wider. The tears of gratitude. And I have found a way to express it.
But the story doesn’t end here.
A good buddy lives a few houses across the park and walks his dogs past my farm stand. He calls to me just as I’m wiping my eyes and sees the rare emotional discharge in public.
I show him the gold (two ounces is really heavy, not like a couple of quarters) and he says he wants to buy them. He offers $1900, smelling a deal. I had checked the internet for the spot price and told him the market value. But he wouldn’t have it, saying he never pays retail and besides, “I’m not gonna get hosed on buying anything from anybody.”
I closed my eyes for a few breaths. I replied, “A street guy might think he was getting cheated, but another guy might see this as an invitation from God to show up.”
I’m not sure, but that seemed to turn his heart. “Okay, I’ll give you two grand. The pictures of the kids in Africa convinced me, not this God talk…..”
The magic continues, to be part of something bigger than my personal security and control.
Thank you for everything. I have no complaints, whatsoever.
Gasshō
Rico

09-03-2009, 05:26 PM	#23
BROOK Avalon Senior Member Join Date: Oct 2008 Posts: 3,117	Re: My Starbuck addiction In the Spirit of GIVING In April I called in to the talk show and shared my tale of woe. I had come out of my fourth shoulder surgery which was unsuccessful. The surgeon had called with news that I needed a total joint replacement. I went into a tailspin, but then remembered that it was my choice to suffer. Pain, as you have said, is inevitable but suffering is optional. At the threshold of a breakthrough. I will be getting the Titanium shoulder with the chrome finish. No biggie. But I had, a few weeks earlier, dedicated my practice with a charity garden to give produce to my neighbors as a means of generating donations to the Africa project. I was limited in my physical activities but had laid out with string the size of the new and bigger garden. Now, I am a can-do kind of guy. A rugged New Englander who built his own clinic, house, boat and worked as a grease ball mechanic to get me and my family thru grad school. But asking for help? No thank you. I can do it myself. But now I couldn’t. What we would do for others we wouldn’t do for our self. So, I picked up the phone and let go of my identity. “Hey, I need a hand tilling the soil for this charity garden…” Well, the help came. And came. And came. Hours and hours of sweaty backs and smiles and lemonade. A few times I went out to the garden and laughed. I was part of something bigger than my egoic will. And it felt wonderful even though the shoulder was paining me something bad. A half dozen professional growers jumped at the chance to donate starter plants, seaweed fertilizer and steer manure. I played classical music with sonic overlays to stimulate plant growth, sprayed exotic mist laden with secret mystery to increase flowering. A neighbor brought blossoming plants to attract pollinating bees. Another gave me materials to build a farm stand in front of my house with a roof and a hand-painted sign offering free food and the invitation to support needy kids in a slum in Africa. People brought plastic bags for others to take home the free produce. Others brought fruit from their trees to share at my little oasis of generosity. It is still early in the season, I have some one hundred plants pumping out delicious food. A friend came over to visit, I plied him with Swiss Chard, cucumbers and zucchini squash and little gold tomatoes. The next morning he invited me over for dinner and presented me with two gold maple leaf coins as a donation. I mean he gets a few gold tomatoes from me and gives me $1920 in gold. I came home to my desk and opened the new video on Kantolomba, the coins in my hand. I don’t know if it was the faces of the children, their elders, the voices singing Acapella or the living compassion at work, but it squeaked open my heart a little wider. The tears of gratitude. And I have found a way to express it. But the story doesn’t end here. A good buddy lives a few houses across the park and walks his dogs past my farm stand. He calls to me just as I’m wiping my eyes and sees the rare emotional discharge in public. I show him the gold (two ounces is really heavy, not like a couple of quarters) and he says he wants to buy them. He offers $1900, smelling a deal. I had checked the internet for the spot price and told him the market value. But he wouldn’t have it, saying he never pays retail and besides, “I’m not gonna get hosed on buying anything from anybody.” I closed my eyes for a few breaths. I replied, “A street guy might think he was getting cheated, but another guy might see this as an invitation from God to show up.” I’m not sure, but that seemed to turn his heart. “Okay, I’ll give you two grand. The pictures of the kids in Africa convinced me, not this God talk…..” The magic continues, to be part of something bigger than my personal security and control. Thank you for everything. I have no complaints, whatsoever. Gasshō Rico Last edited by BROOK; 09-03-2009 at 05:28 PM.