Zen and the Art of Tube Feeding

Overall my family and I have been pretty lucky with pets. My parents had two cats when I was growing up. The “baby” had a heart condition and I guess my mom had to give it medicine. That usually translated into my sister giving the cat the medicine, as she was destined to eventually work at a vet’s office.

When my husband and I had cats in the ’90’s through the early 2000’s, both passed after relatively short illnesses at 15 and 17 years of age. Until then, the most exciting veterinary experience we had with them was giving thyroid medication to our calico cat, Sheila. She also needed percutaneous fluids near the very end, but that was only a week or so and only once a day.

Nothing could have prepared us for…tube feeding a cat.

The cats we have now, Ichigo and Angel are total sweethearts. At least when Ichigo is not beating up his brother, they are sweethearts. They’re six years old. We were told at their last veterinary appointment in the summer that they were a little pudgy. So, we tried a few things changing their food around. We tried to exercise them more, but discovered that we really have no idea what is amusing to a cat. Most of our attempts resulted in us getting far more exercise than our fuzzy friends. So, when Ichigo looked like he’d lost a little weight, we weren’t that concerned. For some reason, Angel was spending a lot of time sitting next to him and we thought that was so cute! 

Cats are small animals though. So when things start going downhill (we discovered), they go downhill fast. Next thing you know, Ichigo was lethargic and not engaging in any of his normal activities. We were getting  concerned, but it wasn’t until one of our friends commented on how terrible he looked that I called my sister. Rather than waiting until the next day, she advised us to take him to an emergency vet right away.

• Resorptive lesions on his teeth - six extractions
• Pancreatitis - pain meds
• Hepatic lipidosis (fat stuck in the liver from all the weight loss)
• Three days in the animal hospital AND

…wait for it…

• the feeding tube

Those of you who have had infants will laugh at my adventure, I’m sure. Certainly, the idea of chasing down a cat, plunging 48 ml of “slurry” into it’s esophagus…one…milliliter…a…time…six…times…a…day seems like nothing to you. Cleaning the splattered slurry off of the walls after he’s shaken his head vigorously with the tube cap off? Piece of cake. Making the slurry…smelling the slurry…crushing medications and mixing into the slurry? Eh - that’s nothing.

Dreaming about slurry...

In those moments at 2:30 am, after finally figuring out the sequestering the cat in the bathroom for tube feeding is best for everyone involved, there is time to ponder.

I started thinking about mortality and expectations. Pena Chodron once said (quoting someone I believe) “since death is certain and the time of death is uncertain, what is the most important thing?” This is a phrase I consider frequently when I’m faced with difficult situations. In this flurry of activity taking care of the cat, however, I was reminded that I actually do take each day for granted. That “the time of death is uncertain” has translated to my subconscious as “some time in the very distant future that I don’t have to worry about now.” I expect everything to keep clicking along just fine.

I’ve been fortunate in life. I’ve mentioned elsewhere that I had the opportunity to have relationships with three of my great grandparents and that three of my grandparents lived well into their 80’s and 90’s. My father recovered completely from his cardiac arrest - which rarely happens in real life. My parents’s cats lived to be well over 10 years old - even the one with the heart condition. Our last cats lived into their teens. In my good fortune, I lost perspective on the precariousness with which we greet each day. It simply never occurred to me that Ichigo could die, but he almost did.

I’m trying to hold this thought in my head for a while, think about and manipulate it a little, let it sink in. The tube came out last week and my husband, daughter and I are currently obsessed with his gustatory rhythms. It would be easy to forget now and just go on as I did before. At some point, this lesson too will fade. For now though, I bring my palms together and bow to it’s wisdom. Katz!

 

Fake Buddhism Quotes

(as posted at American Buddhist Perspective)

My friend and former meditation teacher Bodhipaksa has recently been collecting and commenting upon interesting "Fake Buddha Quotes."  This has been a source of occasional comedy, sometimes frustration, and also a bit of wonder. Why is it that people coin these fake new quotes? Why do others pick them up and spread them, unchecked, across the web and other networks? Why are some, like Bodhipaksa and myself, a bit frustrated with them? First a couple of those quotes (click the link for Bodhipaksa's comments):

“When words are both true and kind, they can change our world.” (from here)

“Suffering, if it does not diminish love, will transport you to the furthest shore.” – Buddha (from here)

“You cannot travel the path until you have become the path itself”
–Buddha (from here)

“Do not dwell in the past, do not dream of the future, concentrate the mind on the present moment.”
—Buddha. (from here)

He is able who thinks he is able. #Buddha (from here)

And finally, my favorite (from here):

Ok, so now that we've all had a good laugh, I have to ask: why create fake Buddha quotes? The simplest answer is that it's just plane old humane mistakes (plain... human). Little slips in translation or memory, or perhaps big ones and viola! (voilà) a new Buddha quote. As a guy who grew up believing that Americans fought a big war about silver in the 1860s and that the second World War was called "war war two" I can see where this is probably very often the case.

In good Buddhist fashion we can call that the ignorance cause. Then there would also be the greed and aversion causes (the three poisons). Greed perhaps for personal aggrandizement or mere attention, aversion could manifest in besmirching someone else (using a made-up Buddha quote) or making a silly one up to make the Buddha look bad.

And now, why do we repeat them? Well, probably for the same reasons - mostly ignorance if you ask me. We all, especially if we call ourselves Buddhists, owe it to ourselves and the world to read some early Buddhist teachings now and then. Check out Access to Insight (you can download the whole thing on your iPhone/iPod) if you haven't already. Even though I'm a bit of a Theravāda snob these days, I will also heartily suggest reading Tibetan, Zen, Ch'an, Shin, etc writings as well. It's very important to get a taste of each tradition; you don't need to believe it or practice it, but see where it is coming from so that you can see your fellow Buddhists and human beings. So don't forget the great Catholics (Thomas Merton, Merton movie, or Anthony De Mello, "I'm an ass, you're an ass"), Protestants, Hindus, Muslims and others.

And lastly, why are some of us a bit frustrated with these fake Buddha quotes? Well, as Bodhipaksa suggests in his comments, the Buddha simply didn't say that. Why make up new things when we already have HUGE canons of real Buddha quotes? Perhaps we could say it's disrespectful, not to mention the above (ignorant, greedy, malicious) potential roots behind the quote. The stated goal of Buddhism, along with the aleviation of suffering, is to know things as they truly are (yathābhūtaṃ ñāṇaṃ). So fake Buddha quotes, unless they are created out of the heart of a true bodhisattva, will potentially not only spread greater unclarity in the world but also increase suffering.

That brings me to a final, scholarly point. What about the Mahāyāna? And in particular a quote from the Adhyāśayasaṃcodana Sūtra, the “Sūtra for inciting determination”:

Yat kiñcin maitreya subhāṣitaṃ sarvaṃ tad buddhabhāṣitam.

Because, Maitreya, all that is well spoken is Buddha-spoken.

You can find this in some great contemporary scholarly books including: Buddhism, Mahayana Buddhism (P.Williams) And On Being Buddha (P. Griffiths), and Elaborations on Emptiness: Uses of the Heart Sutra (D. Lopez).

The idea here seems to be that whatever is well spoken is the Buddha's speech; i.e. if you speak well, you speak as a Buddha. This is very definitely an innovation of Mahāyāna Buddhism. In an article (free to Jstror subscribers) L. Snellgrove explains that some "misplaced wording" in one of his articles had Aśoka, a great early Buddhist king, declaring that 'all which is well spoken is the word of the Buddha' when in fact he stated that 'whatever has been said by the Buddha, is well spoken'.  We can see where some semantic clarity makes a pretty big difference.

What do you think? Can we 'fake quote' the Buddha for good ends? Do we have a duty to point out fake Buddha quotes made by friends? Or is whatever is 'well spoken' an automatic 'Buddha quote'?

The Birth of Death

Death. For many it is a topic we are but all too familiar with, and the word itself peels back the unhealed wounds of the past, of loved ones we have lost and the ordeals that surrounded it. For others, it is more of a place only reached in passing thought, for which our end and the end of the ones we love shall only come in some remote time in the extreme future. It is a difficult thing to discuss, and understandably so, as the emotions of fear, denial and terror from the loss of self can leech out like a river that has over flowed its banks. However, death is the ultimate expression of anicca or impermanence and I think it is quite important for us to understand death, accept it for what it is and pass on across to the other side of loss and sorrow before that dramatic moment we all must face comes.

Anthropologists often say, if you really want to learn about a foreign culture examine how they treat there dead. For us, here in the West, our rituals are no less odd or queer than many other cultures that we may define as morbid or bizarre. We place such a high value on the idea of self and it is so clearly expressed in the entire process we put bodies through to prepare them for burial. Long plastic tubes are inserted into the large arteries and the blood is drained into some hole in the floor, then the body is thoroughly scrubbed and washed and the physical marks of death are then erased or hidden away as best as possible. Next, we fill the corpse with formaldehyde or some other embalming fluid to hinder the natural process of decomposition. For many, they will be viewed before burial, so a small team of people apply make-up, cut, comb and style the hair and fit the deceased in there Sunday best to make the appearance of who they were before death. It is not said often, but often thought how plastic or artificial the entire process is, from the McDrive Through Funeral Homes to the very unreal appearance and feel of the body itself.

The headstones we use come in various sizes and shapes, built from rock and mark dates of birth and death, full names and sometimes a religious inscription. It is good we cherish life so much as to place so much stock into death, but I am afraid it is this illusion of self that is the cause of so much of the hurt and pain death brings. Like a dark shadow that follows us around the city at night, so death waits to meet us around any corner, unpronounced and unstoppable in its entrance in to our lives. I fear because of this I think a lot of us protect ourselves by not getting involved in life, not getting in close relationships with others because we all know at the end it must conclude. Beneath all our words, our deeds, our actions; after all our moments have past, and our lives are spent like a candle with no more wax, we all, unremarkably and inevitably must wither and burn no more.

Perhaps death may not be what we really think it is; maybe it is neither nihilistic (non-existence) nor materialistic (unchanging eternal soul) but ultimately something that resides somewhere in-between. This belief in creation and destruction, this albatross of coming into this world and hence leaving this world weights down the heart and wears down the mind. When we can accept who we think we are, is only thoughts and an ever changing body, we can see that there maybe something deeper, something, some would say, that is always there and always switched on, something that is fully engaged and engrossed in every scene and every character.

Then again, perhaps I am wrong and maybe definitions don't or can't apply here.

Death, as we know it, is only the conclusion to the beautiful gift of this life, whose pulse and breath, whose wonder and amazement can only be fully realized because of this temporary nature. The Buddha urged that we overcome this desire of self, this illusion of time and creation and to fully understand the true nature of who we are, where we come from and where we are going. I think we should make some effort in this life to try and pry off this grotesque mask of death and see the emptiness from where it comes.

A raindrop does not begin in the sky and does not end in the ocean.