Could it be time?

Could it be possible that a solution for Tibet is on the horizon??

Just a moment ago a reporter said the pressure to ask China to open up discussions with the Dalai Lama is rising to the inner circle of Olympic officials. I could feel the flush rising and my heartbeat quicken—my first real hope for a resolution for Tibetans since I stumbled upon the story of the exiled Dalai Lama just nine years ago.

For nine years I have researched, prayed, contributed, supported and organized. I’ve been the one in the room that speaks up when someone asks, "So what’s the deal with Tibet?" I have passed along dog-eared books, explained my stance and beliefs to co-workers, accepted ridicule and maintained determined enthusiasm that one day… the world would recognize Tibet, demand that China account for its actions and maybe one day… just maybe… His Holiness the Dalai Lama could return to the Potala Palace.

Ultimately, I believe that what has happened has had a most positive effect on the world. There are millions of people embracing Buddhism and knowledge of it has permeated cultures around the globe. But, the cost has been incredibly high both for Tibet and China.

And it is here that my conflict lies. I support non-violence. It is at the root of my beliefs, but even I, if I can, will defend myself. I understand that Tibetans may have a difficult time with non-violence—how can I know their suffering? I’m a privileged American.

It has been 50 years since His Holiness had to leave his homeland. I hear the voices and I join their chorus. I can feel the energy and it feels right. The Olympics may just be the place and the time for the world to recognize and embrace Tibet.

wait! come back here!

This morning I got my ass up at 5:30, downed a pot of coffee, stuffed my face with cream of wheat, grabbed my camera and binoculars and was out the door just as the sun hit the horizon.

I was inspired to search for baseballs. In plan words… eagle watching. It's getting late in the season and there was no time to waste.

I had an absolutely blissful and meditative morning scanning treetops and watching old Baldy rip the hell out of yummy fishes. In all honesty, being on the river alone with those incredible birds is inspiring and feels like a distinct privilege.

It also helps to be wrapped up to your ears in layers of warm clothes. I got caught in snow bursts. Ever hear of a snow burst? Me either, but the eagles and I hunkered in close to the trunks until the fitful five minute blizzards were over. It was a bonding experience.

Around noon I crossed the river and headed downtown. I had to pick something up and even though it was President's day, parking sucked around Memorial Drive.

I was waiting for the light to change so that I could make another run up around the courthouse. Just as it changed and I hit the gas, I did a double take at the man I'd just passed. The man that I'd seen in my peripheral was a monk, a Buddhist monk and from the maroon robe and gold monk bag, Tibetan at that.

I was too far passed him with cars crawling up my trunk, so I couldn't stop. I only knew of one monk that might be in town, Lama Lobsong, who I haven't seen for more than a year. I decided to go around the block and see if I could offer whoever he was a ride.

When I came back around, he was gone. I don't know where he went, but he was quick. I drove around a bit more, just in case he might emerge from some secret passage. He was gone. Gone to his warm destination, I hope.

It isn't every day that I pass a Tibetan monk on the streets of St. Louis. For me, that's about as likely as a bald eagle landing next to me and offering me a fish.

A community of one? I doubt that!

The Internet is the wide, wide world of information. I love to ask it questions and dig up information. I cast my line today and got a big fat goose egg. The more I think about this, the more aggravated I am.

Guess who doesn't have 2,500 websites devoted to them in the divorce end of the Internet pool? Women who initiate the divorce and don't have a kid, that's who. Apparently, we have all the answers and never look for each other.

Let's discuss what I reeled in—divorce assistance for women, how to survive the anger, how to be single again. If I got dumped and have a kid, I can choose from an absolute plethora of articles with 10 ways to survive the devastation. WTF?

I hate to be the barer of bad news, World, but sometimes women aren't the victims. Sometimes, we're the ones who pack up and move on. Apparently, I have better odds at being hit by lightening than by meeting another mutant fish like myself.

Not your average girl...

No, I'm not your everyday girl. At 5:15 one day a year, all the errands are run, the cat and bird are fed, the laundry is done and folded. I'm in my favorite chair with my pop and crunchy Cheetos, laptop charged and rabbit ears precariously balanced, the door is locked and the phones are off. It's time for the Superbowl

The crash of helmets, the strategy of the line, the rumble of the crowd, baseball may be America's past time, but football has my heart. I'm all for the underdog, which makes me a Giants fan this year. I've got a deep distaste for Belichick and I never, ever root for the Pats. But, truth be told, I don't care who wins. It's all good.

After the reading of the Declaration of Independence and the Star-Spangled Banner, it's kick off--the meeting of the modern gladiators. This is the one day that I forgive the NFL, the politicians and even my mom. I'll buy what your selling be it patriotism or a Ford truck. However, if you want my attention, I hope it's to high five me for a Brady interception.

At half time, I might even drink that beer my neighbor brought me when I moved in 10 months ago. Luckily, nearly everyone in my building is gone. I have been known to get a little loud and take out lighting fixtures in my exuberance.

Blank Pages

In kindergarten, I was asked what I wanted to be when I grew up. I never hesitated, an actress... or a waitress.

As I grew up and I really began to think about that question, I decided on radio. I plotted and planned how I would eventually own a station in Los Angeles.

Not so gracefully derailed from radio, I moved on to the hospitality industry. I performed great feats to make for the perfect visit to St. Louis.

Then I went to college where I was going to make music videos. That led to the English degree for a future feature writer who settled on administrative assistant.

Today, my sights are set to graphic design and photography.

One of the most important moments of my life happened the day I walked through the doors of Westminster abbey and stood at the grave of Queen Elizabeth. That was the day I realized that I could do anything.

In my mind, I see myself living on the east coast, near the ocean. I work on my laptop while sitting on a rocky beach.

In my mind, I see myself cozied up with notes at a coffee shop in London listening intently to a conversation at the next table.

In my mind, I can feel the accordion play and my body perform the perfect jewel in choreography of my own creation.

In my mind, I'm taking a shortcut through Central Park to an important meeting and I smell the fresh cut grass.

In my mind, I can see the shadows of the skyline build patterns across the tall walls of my loft and I can hear the soft, clear notes rise from the jazz club below.

In my mind, I'm serving dinner to my closest friends and there are at least four different animated conversations going at once.

I hear birds, I hear coin scarves, I hear silence.

I smell pot roast, I smell gardenias, I smell incense.

I see mischievous dark eyes, I see a kitty swirling around my ankles, I see my dad.

I want to create. I want to help. I want to conduct. I want gush. I want to sing and dance. I want to stand in awe of great works of art whether on a canvass of cloth or stone. I want conversations about politics, philosophy and literature. I want to feed my passion to learn. Then I want to teach. I want to make a difference. I intend to fill each page of my life with something that touched my heart.

Yes, I'm the cat lady...

so i'm a cat lady. i'd have a gagillion if i could. but, i've never had a sick animal that needed daily attention.

i surprised myself with the thoughts i had while waiting for the vet to get back with test results. what i was willing to do for this animal and how important he was to me?

was i willing to give him insulin everyday? needles are an unbelievable issue for me. what if he was so sick, i couldn't make him better? when did i really notice that he was loosing too much weight? what would it be like not to have his constant annoying mewing? what if i really couldn't afford to help him? or could i?

only an animal... not really.

i've watched friends spend lots of money on an ill animal. i've watched people dote and focus and maybe take the whole thing dangerously close to what i thought was over-the-top.

but, they are friends, companions, family. i didn't realize how much of my every day this little animal was until now. we know each others moods and habits. he greets me and relies on me. he wakes me in the morning and nudges my cheek before we curl up and fall asleep.

luckily, it's a thyroid issue with a couple pills a day. but, that visit to the vet was a little reality check.

Movin on

I'm closing the doors here. Please stop in to my myspace page

http://www.myspace.com/kymberlieblu

Whirled Species-St. Louis Cardinals

Whirled Species-that just isn't right, but I heard it enough this evening to kinda enjoy saying it.

Congratulations St. Louis, you’ve won the 2006 World Series.

And I discovered pitching.

The last time the Cards took the series, it was 1982 and I was a sophomore in high school. I've always been a fan, but in 2000, I discovered football and baseball took the backseat. Yes, I hear the sighs and see the heads shaking. But, I picked up in the post-season like a lot of folks.

While I was watching the game tonight, I started to notice pitches. I've never really understood pitching and I don't now. But, for the first time, my eyes were glued to the pitchers and barely noticing the batter.

It was like the first time you really understand how something works--when the light bulb goes on and you look beyond to see the mechanics. I have a new hero--Jeff Weaver. And Wainwright is right behind him. I saw Wainwright close the Mets and was so nervous for him that I kept bouncing from room to room.

Tonight, I stayed put. Something very unusual during a sports event. No furniture was turned over. No light fixtures taken out. I was mesmerized by Weaver’s intensity, speed, and accuracy. I even began to recognize strikes and balls without looking to the umpire or listening for the call.

Sports are not for everyone and sometimes they are just an excuse for fans to be stupid. But, when the artistry and refinement are revealed, well, sports can be captivating.

A picture can launch a thousand mantras

People have asked me, “How did you become interested in Tibetan Buddhism?”

It is and isn’t a difficult question. My exploration into Tibetan Buddhism has been long. Sometimes in great leaps, sometimes precariously slow.

I have had two opportunities to share the same ground with His Holiness the Dalai Lama. And I assure you that if you have ever read someone’s account of meeting him, his great compassion will touch you even in a crowd of 100,000. After experiencing HHDL presence, it is difficult to accept that this man is only a simple monk. He is only a simple monk, but he is also the Buddha of compassion.

But the answer to the question? I did have a trigger. There was a place in my life when I was apparently ready to be introduced and it was then that I happened to watch KUNDUN, the Martin Scorsese film about the life of HHDL and the invasion of Tibet.

At the end of that film, I felt like someone had reached in and touched my heart to its farthest depths. I was so deeply offended by the actions of the Chinese and saddened by our human capacity to harm, even in the presence of the greatest source of wisdom and compassion, that I immediately set out to research and discover Tibet and try to understand the position of the Tibetan people.

It appears by the reaction of some people that I have met, that they find this story difficult to accept. Sometimes, I sense an unspoken questioning of how could a movie launch such a fundamental shift in the way I live my life?

Why not? We are a culture obsessed with films, DVDs and the Internet. One of the most successful subjects to transfer to these mediums has been Buddhism. We often attribute negative and harmful behavior to music, movies and video games. Why are we reluctant to believe the opposite could be true?

With this in mind, do not think I am trite when you ask me about Tibetan Buddhism and my first response is a question.

“Have you ever seen KUNDUN?”

Isn't he a bit like you and me?

Today I washed my car. It was covered in approximately 3.5 inches of dust and was giving me heavy guilt. It is after all a 2000 Celica--a car that several teenagers have assured me is incredibly cool.

After a wash, I like to take out my car for a nice air-dry race on the highway. Little beads of water zip up the windshield and off the roof, onto every car I pass. Just add a fitting tune at full volume and it's a 15-minute treat.

I was on the return leg when I noticed a person on the Big Bend bridge...

He's as blind as he can be
Just sees what he wants to see
Nowhere Man can you see me at all?

As I approached I recognized him. Not a man I know, but I man I have seen here before...

Nowhere Man, don't worry
Take your time, don't hurry
Leave it all till somebody else lends you a hand

An African-American man in a red tank shirt, stopped in the middle of the east bound lane, starring down at the oncoming traffic...

Doesn't have a point of view
Knows not where he's going to
Isn't he a bit like you and me?

He's alone on the bridge clutching the fence as though he's trapped...

Nowhere Man, please listen
You don't know what you're missing
Nowhere Man, the world is at your command

How many times have I seen him?? 2? 3 times? Does he see me watching him?

He's a real Nowhere Man
Sitting in his nowhere land
Making all his nowhere plans for nobody
Making all his nowhere plans for nobody

And in an instant he's in my review mirror... an image with his back to me.

Making all his nowhere plans for nobody