Tag Archives: Toyoshige Sekiguchi

Bill, lessons learned, love, marriage, musings

Mundane days that will forever change your life…

I saved the featured photo sometime around 9/11/01. I distinctly remember my former shrink, now a true friend, had shared it in an email to his friends and family in the wake of 9/11. It changed my life when he did that, just as my life was changed when I met him…

It’s September 11th again. Ever since 2001, September 11th has taken on a new significance to a lot of people, especially those of us who are from the United States. I remember all too well that day. It was a beautiful Tuesday morning. I was in my last year of graduate school at the University of South Carolina in Columbia, South Carolina. I had gone to my social work field placement location.

That morning, I had Bill on my mind, because over Labor Day weekend, we’d had the most magical visit in Natural Bridge, Virginia. He was working at the Pentagon, having just started there a month prior. We met at my grandmother’s house and had a gorgeous, fun, comfortable, unforgettable weekend. By the end of it, we were in love. It was the first and only time I’ve ever been “in love”. Yes, I had many crushes when I was younger, but I was never in love. And now, I was… I knew I loved Bill after that weekend, and I later found out that he loved me back. However, even after that weekend, we were still calling each other “friends”. Our relationship wasn’t official at that point.

On September 11, 2001, it was a lovely, perfectly ordinary day, just as it is today. I was buoyed by the fact that at age 29, I had finally met someone with whom I could have a romantic relationship. He made me feel so comfortable, and I had never experienced that with anyone before. We just fit together so perfectly. And if you know the story of exactly how and where we met, you might know how unlikely and incredible that is. Or maybe it’s not. Plenty of people who met in church or were high school sweethearts turn out to be completely wrong for each other.

When I heard about what happened at the Pentagon on September 11, 2001, I did worry. I wasn’t hysterical or anything. I somehow knew, deep down, that he was okay. But I wasn’t sure, so of course I worried… and I wondered if my intuition was wrong, and he was dead. By age 29, life had already taught me that I should never be too optimistic about anything. Too often, I had gotten up my hopes only to see them dashed. In fact, even though I felt like I was in love, I wasn’t completely sure Bill loved me, too.

Many hours after the Pentagon was struck by a jet airliner, I got a message from Bill. He had tried to call me earlier, but somehow had the wrong phone number. Because he was in the Army, he’d had to work all day and well into the night. Once he finally got home to his apartment, he was able to send me an instant message on Yahoo! Messenger. I had just gotten off the phone with my mom, an experienced Air Force wife. I had just told her about Bill, and she immediately gave me advice. She’d been through somewhat similar things with my dad when he was on active duty, although of course my dad never had to deal with anything like 9/11.

Once Bill contacted me and told me he was okay, I suggested that we tell people we were dating. If something had happened to him, I wouldn’t have known until the casualty lists were made public. On the other hand, if he hadn’t concluded we were in love over Labor Day, he would have had the perfect excuse to ghost me… He wouldn’t have considered doing that, though. Bill isn’t like that, which is one reason why I love him so. My husband is one of the kindest, most considerate, most decent people I’ve ever met. He almost always gives people the benefit of the doubt. I probably don’t deserve him. But then, if I were more like him, we’d probably be divorced by now, because we’d constantly be fighting off exploitive people like Ex.

This morning, as we were having breakfast, I was noticing all of the 9/11 posts on Facebook. I looked back at my memories and realized that in September 2015, we were on a trip I dubbed The Beer and Fucking Tour. I called it that because we went to Austria and visited two beer spas and two areas that incorporated the word “fuck” in them. There was Fucking, Austria (since renamed Fugging after 1000 years), and Fuckersberg, which turned out to be a big field in a very picturesque area.

This sign is no longer posted, because too many people were stealing and fucking under it for posterity… I wonder how many babies were born because of this sign… yet another random thing that could have had a profound effect on someone.

We had an amazing time on that long weekend, just as we did in 2001. We drove my Mini Cooper convertible, and the weather was lovely, just like it was in 2001, so we had the top down. It was fun to go to the beer spa and the beer pool, which we still talk about in reverent terms eight years later. We laugh about Fucking and Fuckersberg. But the most incredible event of that trip happened in a very ordinary place… a place we probably wouldn’t have visited at the right time if we hadn’t decided to visit Fuckersberg, which was out of the way of our onward travel plans.

Because we went to see the big field called Fuckersberg, we hit traffic in Munich. And because Bill doesn’t always want to stop when I really need to eat, we were running late for lunch. I got very HANGRY, especially as it got closer to the witching hour of 2:00 PM, which is when a lot of restaurants close after the lunch service. At the time of this trip, Bill was in an online graduate program. He had a paper due, so he was eager to get to our hotel and wanted to press onward. But I needed food, so we pulled off the Autobahn and went looking for a place that didn’t take a “pause” after lunch.

I remember that we were having a hard time finding a restaurant. I told Bill that he could just take me to McDonald’s or buy me some chocolate. I just needed to raise my blood sugar before I had a total meltdown. Bill was cussing a lot, which was also causing me stress. I don’t usually mind hearing him swear, but when I’m irritable and hungry, it really grates on my nerves. Just as we were about to give up our search and get back on the Autobahn to look for a proper rest stop, I saw a restaurant that might be suitable for lunch. We pulled into their parking lot.

We ended up at this very run-of-the-mill Italian restaurant in a Munich suburb. My mood was decidedly dark as we went into the crowded dining room and took a seat among many large families with loud children. I excused myself to use the restroom, and by the time I returned, Bill had already ordered a half liter of Primitivo (mostly for me) and some San Pellegrino. I was still grumbling as I sat there nibbling on bread and drinking the wine.

I looked up and noticed some cows grazing in a field just outside of the far window. For some reason, I wanted to take a picture of the cows, so I pulled out my iPhone. At that point, I didn’t know how to zoom on an iPhone, so I got a picture that was mostly of the dining room. That’s when I had a very profound experience that I don’t think I’ll ever forget, at least not as long as my mind still works properly.

There’s a stranger in the picture who changed my life.

When I took that photo, I hadn’t immediately noticed the man in the top left corner. It wasn’t until my blood sugar was normal that I saw him sitting with a group of people. He was wearing interesting clothes and clearly wasn’t from Germany. I discreetly pointed him out to Bill, who told me he was a Buddhist monk. I noticed he was with a young German woman who seemed absolutely enthralled and delighted by his company. There were some other locals with him. I watched them give him a pair of what appeared to be hand knitted green socks.

As he accepted the socks, he bowed and smiled, and I noticed that he had this incredibly tranquil aura about him. He had the most serene and gentle countenance I had ever seen. Just looking at him from across the room put me at ease. I was awestruck, even though I never spoke to him, nor do I think he even noticed me. In a blog post I wrote in 2015, I explained it like this:

I mentioned it to Bill who explained what he knows about Buddhism.  I still don’t know much about it, but I was really moved by his presence and how kind and decent he seemed to be.  It’s not often you run into someone with such a peaceful and pleasant aura.  He seemed like a very special person just by his manner.  I didn’t even speak to him, but his body language said enough.  I forgot my initial annoyance and relaxed, truly inspired by just watching the monk interact with his companions.  He left before we did, with the German woman who seemed so enchanted by him.

Edited to add…  My German friend, Susanne, says that the monk is Toyoshige Sekiguchi from Japan. He is rather famous and is currently a guest at a farm in Hohenschäftlarn, which is the town where the restaurant where we had lunch is located.  It turns out the reason I thought the monk was so peaceful is because his life’s work is all about promoting peace and nuclear disarmament.  Of all the places we could have eaten…  How amazing.

Years later, I realize that if we’d been at that place at a different time, or if we’d gone to McDonald’s, I would have missed that experience. Maybe I would have had a different, equally incredible experience, but I would have missed that one. My life would have been different. It probably wouldn’t have been significantly different, but it would not be the same as it is today, because I would have missed that profound moment in time, when we happened to eat at a very ordinary Italian restaurant on a random exit near Munich.

I shared that incredible experience with a man I happened to meet at just the right time in a chat room on the Internet… a man who could have so easily exited my life on September 11, 2001. He was in the wedge of the Pentagon where the plane crashed, but deep enough into the building that he missed being obliterated by the fuselage when it collided. That day changed Bill’s life, just as it changed mine. It changed the trajectory of our lives.

The older I get, the more I think some things were just meant to happen. Even really evil things like September 11th can spawn things that turn out to be good in the long run, if you look at it from a very macro perspective. I think Bill and I still would have gotten married if 9/11 hadn’t happened, but it might have taken longer. We might have taken more time to be sure it was the right thing to do. After what he went through with his ex wife, I could understand Bill wanting to take his time. But that close call on 9/11 made him realize that tomorrow is never promised to anyone.

I think about what came after 9/11… wars in two countries, with countless people dying or maimed. On the other hand, a lot of people were born because of 9/11 and the wars that followed. That event put people in places they might not have ordinarily been. A lot of lessons were learned… some good, and some bad.

Sometimes seemingly innocuous decisions end up changing or even ending your life. It’s on days like September 11th, that I always remember that lesson. You could go to work one day and find out that your undeclared boyfriend has suddenly been killed by a plane crashing into his workplace. Or you could end up in an ordinary restaurant in a non-specific town, watching a Buddhist monk accepting green socks, feeling peace wash over you just noticing his gentle, peaceful aura. Or you could pass a playground, watching small children, just discovering life, running toward the fence, literally cheering when they see the garbage man coming to empty the trash cans (which I did recently witness in my little town). Life is just full of that stuff. You can see it for yourself if you look for it.

Anyway… I figure I’ve prattled on long enough about this topic. I’ve got a neglected guitar that needs a few minutes of attention, and a dog who would love to take a walk. I also want to order some stuff from Aran Sweater Market and Henri Willig. So I’m going to end this post and get on with the day. If anything, I hope anyone who cared enough to read this post will take a moment to think about the little miracles in every day… things that happened and somehow changed your life forever. Maybe it will change your perspective somehow… perhaps even in a profound, life altering way.

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Police, social media

What would Jesus do?

I wrote a post yesterday that I decided to password protect several hours later. I didn’t share it on Facebook, as I usually do. I figured if I shared it, I might be inviting Internet infamy, and frankly my mental state right now can’t handle that. So, several hours after I wrote yesterday’s post, I decided to put it behind a password. I figured that if anyone wanted to read it, they would message me.

One person did want to read the post. I shared it with her. We disagreed, although we did so in a civil way. I appreciated that very much, since a couple of nights ago, I got attacked by two different people on Facebook for defending Amy Cooper. Now… when I say I “defended” her, I don’t mean I condoned what she did on Monday morning. I certainly don’t think her actions were right, but I don’t know much about her. All I know about her is what I’ve read in the papers and seen on video. I don’t like what I’ve read or seen, but I don’t know Amy Cooper personally. I think she’s guilty of acting like a racist. However, I don’t know enough about her to know if she is, in fact, a racist. She might very well be a racist. Or, she might have just lost all sense of decorum in a very stressful situation.

By stressful, I don’t just mean being confronted by a black man in a park. I mean stressful to include dealing with the global pandemic in a city that has been hit very hard by the coronavirus. Most of the world is under tremendous stress right now, and I wonder if that had anything to do with the way Ms. Cooper reacted on Monday.

A lot of people have concluded that by calling the police on birdwatcher Christian Cooper, the black man who confronted her in Central Park on Memorial Day morning, Amy Cooper is a horrible person to the core. She’s lost her job, her dog, and probably a lot of friends. Many people have said they think she should be arrested and spend time in prison, even though there is no law against calling the police. Granted, many people felt Amy Cooper was simply calling the cops because she’s a racist; but not having been there at the time, I can’t conclude that she didn’t feel scared or threatened. I honestly don’t know what she was feeling at the time. I can only make a presumption based on the video and news articles that have been shared and commented on repeatedly.

I have noticed that coming to a conclusion other than what the masses believe can be dangerous. Based on the hatred that was spewing Tuesday night and yesterday, it occurred to me that some self-righteous people wouldn’t mind if she just killed herself. That seems wrong to me, since Amy Cooper is a human being and I think most human beings are deserving of basic compassion and understanding, even when they don’t show it themselves. (and I will also admit that I can be hypocritical on this point, particularly when someone is hateful to me– but I am working on it)

I found the flow of vitriol toward Amy Cooper very depressing. It was bad enough that I considered getting off of Facebook. Between the constant back and forth preaching about social distancing and face mask wearing, the endless pictures of hateful white supremacists who have been toting their guns to state capitals and demanding their “rights”, and the shrill outrage expressed by thousands of people who don’t actually know anything about Amy Cooper or Christian Cooper or any of the other stories they were commenting on, it got to be too much… I was starting to feel horrible about myself, and I had nothing to do with any of these incidents.

Then I saw posts about George Floyd, the 46 year old black man who was arrested in Minneapolis and died handcuffed and begging for his life as a white police officer pressed his knee into Floyd’s neck, pinning him to the ground. I’ll admit, I haven’t read the details about that case yet, but I did see the horrifying pictures. I do think the officers who are responsible for killing Mr. Floyd should be prosecuted. There are far too many black men being killed by people who are supposed to be protecting and serving everyone. Ditto to the three men in Brunswick, Georgia– Gregory McMichael, 64, Travis McMichael, 34, and William Bryan, 50,– who are responsible for killing Ahmaud Arbery in February. Those men absolutely should stand trial for taking the law into their own hands and killing a black man who was simply out for a run.

I think it’s a problem that someone like Amy Cooper gets mobbed and automatically labeled a racist for calling the police. I think people should be able to call the police whenever they think they need help. No one should be able to “weaponize” the police. The police should be there to help resolve conflicts, protect and serve all people, and enforce laws. The fact that people think a middle aged white woman can call the police, resulting in a black man being killed by them, is a serious problem and something that our society must address. I think the fact that so many black men in America are being killed by cops is a much bigger issue than a white woman calling 911 when she didn’t really have to.

Unfortunately, somehow some police officers in the United States seem to have lost their way, and now they’ve become people that we collectively can’t trust. When a middle aged white woman like Alison Ettel, Jennifer Schulte, or Amy Cooper calls the police on someone of color, they become targets of rage and symbols of racism. People then feel free to cheer when their lives fall apart on a very public forum. The public becomes as bad as the offender. Seriously… I don’t think people who are outraged against Amy Cooper, wishing death or poverty or any other misfortune on her are a whole lot better than the racist they claim she is. Hate is hate. God forbid you present a different viewpoint, either. If you do, be prepared to be attacked and maligned, as I was a couple of nights ago.

And that brings me to the title of today’s post. I have never claimed to be a very religious person. I’m especially not a fan of organized religion because I’ve seen it hurt a lot of people. However, I am a fan of Jesus Christ… or at least the idea of being “Christ like”. I have been fortunate enough to run into a couple of people in my life who radiated serenity. A few years ago, I even wrote about a man I didn’t talk to, but simply noticed in a restaurant. I was in a bad mood at the time… hungry, tired, and irritable, and I noticed this man sitting at a table with several other people. He seemed to be so calm, loving, and gentle… perhaps a mere essence of who I think Christ would be if I were to meet him. The people who were with the man in the restaurant seemed enchanted by his humble demeanor and easy kindness.

My German friend, Susanne, found out who the man was. It turned out he was a Japanese Buddhist monk named Toyoshige Sekiguchi who had been traveling around the world to promote peace and nuclear disarmament. I never spoke to him, but simply seeing him in a crowded restaurant while I was “hangry” had the effect of calming me down and imparting peace. It occurred to me that someone like Toyoshige Sekiguchi would not hate Amy Cooper. He would most likely wish peace for her… something to soothe whatever it was inside of her that made her say what she said to Christian Cooper on Monday morning and take actions that led to her life being destroyed in a matter of hours.

I am a very long way from being like Toyoshige Sekiguchi. I am an even longer way from being like Jesus Christ. I have my moments of hatred, outrage, and judgment, just like everyone else does, although mine most often seem to come out against people who injure me or Bill personally. Still, I would like to be a kinder, more understanding person. Hating Amy Cooper is not a step in the right direction to meet that goal, even if I condemn her actions.

A wise professor once told me, having been the wife of an abusive alcoholic– you have to separate the person from the action. Most people occasionally say and do bad things, but that doesn’t necessarily make them inherently bad people. And… just for the record, I can name several people off the top of my head whom I think are much worse people than Amy Cooper is, and none of them have ever been outed, let alone fired or arrested. But what they did was never recorded on a camera phone and leaked to the press. Most of us could easily find ourselves making a very public mistake that gets put on blast. I doubt very much that any of us would want to have our lives upended and wrecked for having a couple of bad minutes of our lives recorded for posterity and shared with and judged by the masses.

For his part, Christian Cooper has publicly stated that he doesn’t think it’s right for Amy Cooper’s life to be upended. He said:

“Any of us can make — not necessarily a racist mistake, but a mistake… And to get that kind of tidal wave in such a compressed period of time, it’s got to hurt. It’s got to hurt.”

“I’m not excusing the racism,” he said. “But I don’t know if her life needed to be torn apart.”

He opened his mouth to speak further and then stopped himself. He had been about to say the phrase, “that poor woman,” he later acknowledged, but he could not bring himself to complete the thought.

“She went racial. There are certain dark societal impulses that she, as a white woman facing in a conflict with a black man, that she thought she could marshal to her advantage,” he said.

“I don’t know if it was a conscious thing or not,” he added. “But she did it, and she went there.”

Christian Cooper says he doesn’t want to reconcile with Amy Cooper face to face, but he has expressed regret that she’s received death threats and that her life is being “destroyed”. He has acknowledged that by making her go viral, he played a part in (hopefully temporarily) destroying her life… even though many people feel that by calling the police, she could have ended his life. He even almost called her a “poor woman” as he spoke to the New York Times about the aftermath of making her go viral. I commend him for having compassion for Amy Cooper. The world would be a better place if more people did. I hope someday that Amy Cooper recovers from this incident and even gets her dog back, as long as she’s willing to keep him on a leash.

What I think is especially sad, though, is that we don’t have more faith in the New York City Police Department being able to do their jobs without killing someone. And that our lack of faith in New York City’s police is due to the all too frequent stories about black men being killed by cops in places like Minneapolis, Minnesota. That, to me, is a much bigger issue than Amy Cooper deciding to call the cops.

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