This is not my house but my home

pic courtesy of journeytohades.blogspot.com

I live in someone else’s house now.

Every morning I prepare her meals, wipe her altar and empty her bins. I sit silently to listen to her mantras playing on the radio at a very low volume so as not to disturb her prayers. I look over her shoulder and it’s more frail than I recall thinking of its shape. Her shoulder’s fuzzy and down her arm the same. I look back further and catch strands of her hair in my periphery. It’s a mixture of Bigen's brown black henna and true white. I wonder whether I should scrub her toilet. I shan't at the moment, not on this holy night; the night where we shudder at midnight from the noise of those reds bursting outside. I like to be a welcome house guest, one you wouldn’t mind inviting. I like to be chatty and dance to house guests and house plants because everyone needs to be comforted once in a while. If I was her mother I would not chastise her for the bonfire of paper offerings up in smoke - even if they make me cough. I’d ruffle her hair and give her loving looks. Mothers give this life so what’s so special about that? Ask someone who doesn’t exist. Ask someone else who is not cultured. Better yet, ask any son or daughter who is not filial. There are creepy crawlies making their presence felt all over the "fatt kou" cakes at the prayer table to the Jade Emperor as some sort of artistic statement / fortuitous omen. I briefly think about splattering them with one of the dusty hardcovers but I don’t because it’s not my house and I like to be a welcome house guest that is wary of mother's superstitions and doesn’t murder the other inhabitants often if at all. I've read The Art of Happiness. I know what happens when we die, you don’t have to tell me twice. Karma ripens and sneaks up on us when we least expect it to. As I said, I’m not her parent but if were, I would mother her clear off this mortal coil. Because mothers are caring and good like that and I like to be a good housemaster to all my loving pets and plants. Because without her I am homeless and sleeping on glass doors never really suited me.







"Walk on a trail of loving kindness 
 Walk on a path of compassion 
 And all else around you will be beautiful." 
 Every Blessing