Yesterday I had a dentist appointment in the morning, and while I was getting my teeth cleaned, my dentist talked and talked and talked. He told me about a book he recently read about the brain and about biofeedback and how the amazingness of the brain must mean that God exists. Then he told me about something he read about one of the first doctors to work on heart transplants and gave me a lot of details about how often our heart valves open 100,000 times per day, and our heart pumps 2000 gallons of blood a day. These are amazing things that couldn’t have evolved, so God exists. I’m glad my mouth was full of fingers and equipment, and all I could muster was "huh". This was enough to encourage him to go on and on about what it was like to be in his early 20s when the war in Vietnam was occurring. I got to hear all about his opinions on the draft, on what it was like to know people who went to the war, who didn’t come back, who came back changed. How he can’t see how the fighting in Iraq will ever stop.
Later in my day, I picked up supplies for my Friday night Jennietime. I went to my favorite Indian grocer and got 2 movies and some samosas. While I was waiting for my DVDs, I was chatting with the storekeeper. I hadn’t been in for 2 weeks, and Raj was asking me where I’d been. I told him I had been at a meditation retreat in the mountains. He asked me about my meditation practice, and whether or not I was a Buddhist. When I explained that I’m not really Buddhist, but I do meditate, he was confused. I told him I work at Naropa, and he seemed to understand. This started a conversation about religion. "Life is meant to be happy," he said, "Be good to other people, and be happy. That’s religion."
Last night I stayed at my best girl Dol’s place and acted as dogsitter since neither she nor her boyfriend were going to be home Friday night. My movies wouldn’t play in her DVD player, so I ended up watching a lot of Sex in the City. That show seriously makes me want to drink more martinis (which I haven’t done in months), smoke cigarettes (which I don’t do at all), buy new shoes, and think about relationships.
Today while doing laundry, I watched Nishabd, a visually gorgeous movie that really creeped me out. One of the main characters was portrayed by Amitabh Bachchan, who I adore. The tagline "He is 60. She is 18. some love stories aren’t meant to be understood." I’ve certainly seen my share of relationships that I don’t understand...
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