Author: BuddyCushman

Keep on….

I saw I’d received a (disturbing) text from my wife last night – who was two rooms away when she sent it – and I said to myself don’t read it right before bed (9:30) and I read it and alarms and crazies and fears and emotions went off in my head and I was…

By BuddyCushman 05/07/2021 1

Out of the Closet

My son Spenser and I began this afternoon the work of cleaning out his closet. For the upcoming move. Like some crash sale – everything must go. Regular readers of the Blog likely know Spenser has Down Syndrome. Which means his thinking process is unique and works just fine for him except when it doesn’t.…

By BuddyCushman 05/07/2021 2

Dumpster Divinations

In the mornings I think about stuff. With two or three coffees, and even more (thinking) lately since I stopped reading three weeks ago. Can’t get a grip on the words. So it’s me and coffee and three steno pads and one wire-bound notebook, a Bic medium pen, and whatever random thoughts stroll in, float…

By BuddyCushman 05/05/2021 4

Me and Fats

It’s hard. Some days are hard. I woke at 3 a.m. and could not fall back asleep a long time – whirring and swirling, wondering, wondering – and I fell asleep at some point and woke up into this Monday and my thought was, it’s hard. Last night, on a walk, a friend I don’t…

By BuddyCushman 05/03/2021 0

it felt like friday

Emperor Wu of Liang asked the great master Bodhidharma, “What is the main point of this holy teaching?” “Vast emptiness, nothing holy,” said Bodhidharma. “Who are you, standing in front of me?” asked the emperor. ” “I do not know,” said Bodhidharma. The emperor didn’t understand. Bodhidharma crossed the Yangtze River and went to the…

By BuddyCushman 04/30/2021 0

Supposed to Be

Back in the early eighties I had a mentor kind of guy named Dick M. That was his name. He was one of those don’t drink just today folks, and as he was indeed a mentor to me, I guess I was to. I sure liked him a lot, and he seemed to like me.…

By BuddyCushman 04/29/2021 0

What Johann and Joe Said

I think it was this past Friday, out on one of these real long walks I’ve been taking twice a day the last couple of weeks, a thought came to me, each word clear in my head, the thought resonating through my entire being – soul and all. It was this: “Give all my energy…

By BuddyCushman 04/28/2021 1

The Next Right Thing

I’ve always liked that saying, from whenever I first heard it, I think maybe with the don’t drink one day people, or it could have been in one or another residential setting with some loopy adolescents. Don’t remember. But, I always liked it, with its implicit action of course: Do the next right thing. Lately…

By BuddyCushman 04/27/2021 1

There’s a Lot to It

I can see it like it was yesterday. Summer into fall, 2007, the sun is shining, the days are balmy, welcoming. The Red Sox are winning. There’s me, crashing on a loft bed wide open above the kitchen of my sister Sandy’s house. Her house along with my brother-in-law DeeDee. Yeah, he’s got a more…

By BuddyCushman 04/26/2021 4

With a Little Help….

“No man is a failure who has friends.” If you are like me, and kind of stuck on the holiday movie “It’s a Wonderful Life”, you know that is what the angel Clarence writes to George Bailey after dramatically showing him he, George, had indeed lived a wonderful life. I bring this up because a…

By BuddyCushman 04/23/2021 3

Tweet, Tweedle-Lee-Dee

In his book “Cat’s Cradle” Kurt Vonnegut Jr. has a line which says this: “Strange travel suggestions may be dancing lessons from God.” I read that book in college, along with most everyone else, maybe late 60’s, early 70’s. That line pulled me in from the get-go: “Strange travel suggestions.” “Dancing lessons from God.” I…

By BuddyCushman 04/21/2021 1

That B

I just got back from a pre-surgery nasal swab Covid test. It, the swabbing, kind of tickled. Tickled is good. On the way to the medical center I was listening to The Byrds. On the way back it was the Beach Boys. Last night looking at a Padres/Brewers baseball game the announcers got talking about…

By BuddyCushman 04/20/2021 2

Little Did I Know

I had a mentor of sorts I’d found back in the early 80’s – this cool gay guy who was helping me out with the whole don’t drink and drug thing. He was forever telling me that there was “a plan” for me, that my Higher Power – whatever that was – surely had a…

By BuddyCushman 04/19/2021 3

Bell Tell

Not really, good old Bell Telephone, but it’s a phrase I remember and pretty much the only company you got in the ear-to-ear, handing on the wall, 20-foot curly cord so as to be able to walk around the kitchen and prep dinner or prep the dishes or scramble some eggs and drop the toast…

By BuddyCushman 04/16/2021 2

What Eddie C. Said

I am usually ‘Mr. counting my blessings every 10 minutes’. Paying my best attention – as the Buddhists say, noticing, noticing, noticing – and taking note of how gorgeous the day and planet can be, is in fact when that is where as a species we all go. A guy I knew long ago, Eddie…

By BuddyCushman 04/15/2021 2

Old Saying

A few people I knew long ago use to say that if you walked into a room full of people and everyone had thrown their troubles in a pile on the floor, you’d be lucky if you grabbed your own when you left. What do ya think? Wednesday.

By BuddyCushman 04/15/2021 3

Nothing about Nothing

Six days from now – exactly 38 years ago – I met a guy named Frenchie. He was a longshoreman from Charlestown, MA, retired, a bad back, and he traveled all about the greater Somerville vicinity with a couple of cats named Eddie G. and Jack. By chance having stumbled into this trio, and in…

By BuddyCushman 04/13/2021 1

Colors

Purples, pink, pale oranges – sunrise paints. My Morning Pages written, perhaps a smidge more somber than other mornings. Still – just waking up is a victory. And I laugh out loud with my reading and coffee, following 22 minutes in the meditation chair. I may be a Buddha (Buddya) but I sit with my…

By BuddyCushman 04/12/2021 0

Show and Tell

This photo, Thursday, taken just after 8am, in my car. See the three – it’s show and tell. Left to right – That baseball, familiar baseball stitching, that baseball has traveled with me out and about, hither and thither, a big hunk of my life. Found in the infield of the track at the old…

By BuddyCushman 04/09/2021 2

Coming to My Census

I jerked up and out of a coma-like sleep in this afternoon’s recliner, I’d been reading “The Letters of William Burroughs”, wide awake and meanwhile as well to the accompaniment of two cups of Allen’s Corvallis coffee, four bags arriving in a box in the mail today and one freshly opened and perked and heavenly,…

By BuddyCushman 04/08/2021 0

So Young

Beach Boys, “So Young” alternative take, post dinner dishes, Allen Ginsberg piling up in on-line book carts, it’s all about the war Baby. Like the song says, “…Then Mama’s baby will have seen the last of me. I’m about the transcribing, Holmes, the story telling, documenting the moments, we share in ways and we change…

By BuddyCushman 04/07/2021 0

Considering Me

I’ve come to be slightly more gentle with myself, over time, and an example is my plan for this Monday afternoon which is drive over to the Cleveland High School track and walk around it either 12 or 14 times, depending on stamina in the  moment, track milieu including weather temps, wind velocities, and sunshine-iness,…

By BuddyCushman 04/05/2021 0

Scavenging

Dust bunnies rolling around my head later here Thursday night. Did some good stuff, worthwhile, support the family, try to stay healthy, a bit quieter today. Daydreamed, on morning walk, about an extended stretch of silence, like four or five days without any talk. Be hard, the wife, the kid, but it’s a thought. These…

By BuddyCushman 04/02/2021 0

Today being Today

Wednesday, 7:15 pm. Today is today. Mostly was today, now creeping along toward a new one. Today is not yesterday. Entirely different, a unique thing. Today is/was unique. Today is today. I liked today. I hurt my back and both wrists and created general aches and creaks working out in our vast vegetable gardens (Punster)…

By BuddyCushman 04/01/2021 0

Tuesday

On a long walk late this morning I saw multiple birds, heard waves of bird songs, aerial lyrics, the winged span of an eagle passing away up-creek beyond my tardy glance. Robins and doves come to linger, jays in squacky conference, I could not say if there’s is play or debate or a brand of…

By BuddyCushman 03/31/2021 1

Buddha in the Basement

11 a.m. — There is a sliver of blue sky broken out and down through the seemingly endless Northwest clouds. Over to the north. Rain devils, why not travel 1200 miles south to Los Angeles where you are needed. They reside here, though, these clouds, so the blue cutting through is a gift. I’m grateful.…

By BuddyCushman 03/29/2021 0

Memoired

My wife Susan is working on her memoir. The particular memoir she’s working on today. That one. Memoirs are funny, like a pinata, sort of, take a whack and see what falls out, whatever awakes in memoir-ville – any old time and place. So, for example, were I to try and write my memoir it…

By BuddyCushman 03/27/2021 0

March Haiku (American)

Today Bird feeder swaying. Wren flits, green branch bends – Cool breeze. (Kerouac offered less than 17 syllables. Said it was more “ours”. I think a haiku is how I feel it, letters spilling out from these friendly keys. I chase Wednesday magic.) In 2018 I published my second book of poetry – “Dictation from…

By BuddyCushman 03/24/2021 0

Firefly Future

“Hast thou attuned thy being to humanity’s great pain, O Candidate for Light?” — (Tibetan) Book of Golden Precepts, ed. H.P. Blavatsky Yeah, I generally think about that quote two, three times a day. Pretty much. I came upon it early this morning over coffee, reading Peter Matthiessen’s “The Snow Leopard”. Which I’ve been meaning…

By BuddyCushman 03/24/2021 1

Travels

Traveling in my mind, today – Monday – I wonder. Do humans flit? As an active verb? Can I? I am flitting, so’s you know, amidst various geographies my precious springtime March, out there in this daylight Provincetown down the way end of Cape Cod, Oakland of course, and a journey of the mind into…

By BuddyCushman 03/22/2021 0

Clutter

It’s 7:35 Friday night. I worked for a youth organization once named 735. Back in Melrose, Massachusetts. Lot of my changes there, the North Shore, all those kid outfits, all the roles I took, all the way up to Director level over and over again. We got good work done a lot of the time,…

By BuddyCushman 03/20/2021 1

Avaians

Oh, to be a better bird. That’s how I flew out from the bed this morning. And why. Rushing, gushing these ancient joints lubed with a joy of still can do, here I go, these wings, out beyond the rapacious reaper’s ruin. Ha! Dumb thing, no match for the avaians. Inbound dream, outbound skeedaddle, and…

By BuddyCushman 03/18/2021 0

Ducks

I heard the hoo-ing of a dove while I was sitting in zazen this afternoon. It was my second sitting of the day, the first at my usual 4:54 am awake alone in the sleeping house, straight back chair with attached cushion in the dark living room. The second this afternoon, in the studio, blessed…

By BuddyCushman 03/17/2021 0

Just this

My wife transferred me $1400 from our joint account to my personal ‘Shares’ account today, free government money, earned being a good citizen. There’s a dark grey rabbit hanging out in our yard pretty much all the time these days. My son in Missouri Paypaled me a bunch of money I’d lent him back in…

By BuddyCushman 03/17/2021 2

Take the Bench

Back in ’06 and ’07 I worked for an outfit called Walden House. This was in San Francisco, most of my time running the adolescent boys’ residence in The Lower Haight – ‘214’ – and some of it at the girls’ residence in South San Francisco – ‘PSK’. Walden House was a California state-wide organization…

By BuddyCushman 03/15/2021 4

August ’58

It’s August 1958 and I’m nine years old. Ginsberg is back from Europe, living lower east side New York, and Ferlinghetti is plunked down in the forests of Big Sur. My dick is getting hard, for the first time ever, once in a while and I dig that. It has dawned on me that, at…

By BuddyCushman 03/12/2021 0

Good Timing

I feel I have been trending in the right direction for some time now, on a psychic cellular level, good orderly direction, intertwined among body, soul, and the individual me of me. Something like a to thine own self be true. And digging it. Body, 72-plus years on the odometer, and mind (all those minutes…

By BuddyCushman 03/11/2021 0

Koan #2

I have this incredible group of friends, their number growing weekly, who converse with me regularly and are all dead. Se la vie. My ongoing corporeal walking around peeps, not so much. I don’t hear from them and it ain’t me (Babe). I make calls, leave messages send texts send emails greeting cards, words of friendship support…

By BuddyCushman 03/10/2021 0

Hundred Thousand Wing Flips

There were small knotholes in some of the old boards, the holes oblong shape, and slivers of sunlight would stream through onto the barn’s dirt floor. I was staring trance-like at one of those lit up areas right when I had my first ever true sexual experience, with a girl named Cindy Mawaka. She was…

By BuddyCushman 03/09/2021 3

Baby, a Letter

(Monday weather) Rushed to get a letter in mailbox early this morning before regular Monday spiritual retreat. Banged the letter out yesterday (Sunday) afternoon. I have received only one letter (Keith, LA) in the last year. Oh, sadness. What happened to letters? That is a koan, my koan – What happened to letters? I will…

By BuddyCushman 03/08/2021 0

Banger oh Banger

Banger oh Banger. This is me (this me), I’m sure Walt Whitman approves, my exuberant self, especially with these vows of silence and heavy noticing. My pal Milky Dent has a belief and always believes it’s about compassion, which he and his posse of energy minstrels chase hourly. It’s the compassion, Brah (they always say).…

By BuddyCushman 03/05/2021 0

Giving Normal the Finger

Well here we go Thursday, my mind electric and I’m thinking evermore in the place and space of ‘just this’. “This.” My complete sentence. Yeah, I’m reading another book about Zen, an occasionally interesting memoir, but the spectacular nuggets, didn’t the early forty-niners note just a tiny gleam of gold under flowing waters – and…

By BuddyCushman 03/04/2021 0

Scrambled Kiss

Tuesday: Antwon Alazar is sitting alone in his barber shop. The sign out front says “Antwon’s Hair Cutting”. Old school. Antwon is a white dude, just so you know in case you were surmising otherwise. Which explains the fact of his favorite meal being scrambled eggs. Antwon’s a “keep it simple” guy and creating a…

By BuddyCushman 03/02/2021 3

Velvets

It is said the Buddha’s final words were, “Be a lamp unto this world.” Which is, conceivably, alike the spiritual suggestion, “This little light of mine, I’m gonna let it shine.” Who knows. Myself, I lean toward the Velvet Underground’s, “I’ll be your mirror, reflect who you are.” And did you know I share a…

By BuddyCushman 03/01/2021 0

Tell me where the chimes sound

I personally cannot wait to get to the ocean again. Portland sucks. One hundred miles away. I cannot wait for the fresh, cool snappy ocean air, right there, right there, fill my lungs with that oh so much wonder. How much wonder do we note, accrue in our minds and who knows your answer, your’s…

By BuddyCushman 02/26/2021 0

Permissions for Joy

Rat traps, rat traps – I don’t believe there will ever be enough rat traps. So the mind tumbles down the basement stairs, no surprises, no promises, just another day, which should go without saying “Thank you God” though otherwise no promise that any of it will get any better. Not all better – even…

By BuddyCushman 02/25/2021 1

Angels

(Last week’s weather.) On the third day without electric, without heat, Wednesday, with all those taken-for-granted slices-of-life missing, my wife’s handyman called, early in the morning, and asked if we needed firewood. In fact my wife had decided the night before – the house growing colder each day – to light an early fire and…

By BuddyCushman 02/24/2021 1

Today…….verse…

(Last week’s weather.) A Poem The wife sometimes frets, suffers, fleeing from joy. I take coleman-stove coffee, surely of the wife’s skill, none of mine, to the reading recliner, ancient appearance, bought well-used upon entry to these Northwests (now lit here only by day) – I feel wild with joy, oh, dear sweet coffee and…

By BuddyCushman 02/23/2021 0