Watch out for flying monkeys

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I do not want to become a flying monkey. Flying monkeys fly all over doing bad things. They work for witches and they kidnap young girls with small useless dogs. (By the way, speaking of dogs, I’m going to digress here for a moment and say, I am really tired of people who talk about their dog’s illness as if it were a child. It’s not a child. I understand a little grief when the canine hits the dust, but come on people. You missed a meeting because of your dog? You missed dinner because your dog was queasy? People get way too emotional about their pets. I like all 20 parakeets, all three dogs, both cats, the eight nameless chickens, I even said a prayer for chicken number four may she rest in peace to the Great Chicken God in the Sky, may her feathers ever keep her warm, may her eggs come out with ease. I am just sick of people making out like their pets were people. They aren’t people. They’re creatures.)

Back to flying monkeys. There are a lot of ways you can be a flying monkey. Travelling around all the time and not getting anything done. Travelling on vacation and leaving your spouse behind. I spoke with someone the other day who is going on his summer vacation and leaving his spouse behind. That’s flying monkey behavior. Zipping around on weekends and never being at rest: Flying monkey behavior. Never really listening to anyone because the voices in your head are too loud? Flying monkey. Not keeping promises to friends of things you said you would do but then just didn’t bother to do? Flying monkey. Complaining that you can’t show up on time because your dog is sick? Flying monkey. You aren’t getting along with your kids so you decided to just leave them with the other parent and get away and live your own life? Flying monkey.

Flying monkeys are the opposite of Buddhists. Flying monkeys do not live in the present but are always rushing to the next thing. They do not live life mindfully. Sometimes they forget where they are. Sometimes they forget who they are. They forget what matters to them. They lose their moral center. They start crying that friends don’t understand them, that nobody likes them, that they’re starting to feel misunderstood. Pretty soon, they’re right.

As I said, I am concerned about myself. I am travelling way too much for me at least. I’m starting to lose track of where I should be and I’m not listening well. Those are definitely the dirty signs of flying monkey, but the good thing is I see this, I’m paying attention and I plan to get myself back with my feet on the ground. Watching the coffee grounds as they fall around the roses. Watching the rose petals as they fall on the grass. Watching my Japanese maple, the leaves opening and opening. Watching the figs ripen. And running into all that air.

Flying monkeys lose track of who they are. I’m remembering.

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Published in: on April 16, 2014 at 2:11 pm  Leave a Comment  
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