Good Karma Music Stories

When my daughters went off to college I was struck by how unprepared I was to be alone. This loneliness, while selfish, caused me to run away. I ran far. All the way to India where I met a man who was taking care of his family, and another 11 other children along with his extended family. I gave him the last of my savings to start a school because it felt good to be able to help some one. I realized that someone in this world still needed me. But was most profound was that I realized that my daughters leaving home did not mean that they did not need me still. It was a long journey; half way around the world, that reminded me that we are all needed here to love and care for each other.

I submit the story last time, I haven’t receive your songs. I would love to play those songs to my patients in my clinic. So would you email me the songs in paramita?Thanks very much.

I found a purse in a shopping cart at a local grocery store. It took a while to find anything with her phone number on it because there were at least a dozen credit cards, cash, driver’s license, etc. there. Finally, I found a business card and called the lady – from her expensive cell phone. She hadn’t realized she had left it yet and was thrilled to hear from me. We met halfway between our homes and when she took the purse from me she gave me an autographed signed copy of a inspirational book that she had written. Besides the type of book being right on for me as I love inspirational/motivational books, the inscription spelled my name correctly -I spell it in a way that almost no one else does. I thought that was as remarkable as anything in the whole situation.

I’ve looked into Buddhism quite a few times before, but it never seemed right for me. I was afraid to be seen as some granola-crunching, New Age poseur hippie or something, so I would briefly surf some websites, and be done with it. But at this current time, I am kind of at a cross-roads in my life, and unemployed, and i decided that i have plenty of time to right my wrongs, & try to become a better person. I have borderline personality disorder, & i was amazed to read that facets of the Buddhist mindfulness training were appropriated for Dialectic Behavioral Therapy, a treatment for this disorder. So–in order to improve myself, and help out other people, i have been-exercising, so i remain as attractive as ever to my boyfriend, as well as for other reasons-cooking dinner for my family (with actual steps, and recipes and such, which is brand new to me because my dinner always comes out of a box!) -volunteering at the book store at my local library, twice a week -and just over all attempting to control my anger, & make right by everybody that i’ve inadvertently been rude to for such a long time, like my family, & friends, too. All that isn’t really a story, though, just blabber, so I apologize if it doesn’t meet the criteria, and to everybody who is reading this who expects a grand old yarn!

All I did was run to catch a shopping cart that was blown by the wind just enough to catch a downslope and head toward parked cars in the parking lot. It doesn’t seem like much, but I know that it can be annoying to come out of a store and see a new scratch or dent on a brand new car. It must have been enough, because one of the other patrons thanked me for my action, even though (I know this for a fact because she had parked next to me, nowhere near the carts) it wasn’t her car that was going to be hit. It felt good to do something helpful, just because it needed to be done. And perhaps someone will have come out of the store, to a car that would have been hit by a cart, but wasn’t, and did not have a good mood marred by an unexpected occurrence.

i am currently experiencing a difficult time as i carefully step, or perhaps vault, myself through graduate school. recently i have been feeling many negative vibes between a teacher and myself.however, i made a decision a few days ago, to no longer perpetuate these vibes, instead in every encounter i have with her, i wrap her up, shroud her (in my mind’s eye) in a veil of glorious white light.i know it seems small and perhaps insignificant, but this teacher carries great power at my school and with that great responsibility. and i have true compassion for her, which i think until just recently, i had forgotten. i expect that she needs healing and light as much as anyone, and perhaps she has not been getting as much as she needed. so i make this offering to her. it’s my small contribution to her, and i hope that she may reap the benefit.

I work in a small, busy ER in a small town. Over the years a nurse gets to know the people that frequent the ER, coming in by ambulance when a taxi would do, abusing alcohol or drugs and then hoping that they will get a helping hand when their existence is just too much for them to cope with. We often feel helpless as we patch them up and return them to the same circumstances that brought them through our doors. One young woman, we’ll call her Janet, came back in 3 nights ago – the place was hopping, we had police in 3 times with suicidal and psychotic people, we had the left overs of bar brawls, we had chest pains, and we had children with sore ears. There are only 2 RNs on at night and so no breaks and no time to sit. And then the ambulance comes in with Janet who is Hepatitis C and HIV positive. Fortunately she is not vomiting blood this time, but she has abdominal pain – I get a urine sample, it shows she has a bladder infection, I get an IV in, run some fluids, give her something for the nausea, and move on. A while later I sit in the chair next to her stretcher to have a look at her medication pack. Some of the spaces are empty, some still are full of pills to be taken at regular intervals, and I begin the usual “Why won’t you just take your pills as ordered….” and then I stop. I look at her. She is still as a statue. I hold her hand, and she lets me. I stop and match her breath. It is quiet. We sit. We breathe. Then I ask, “Janet, can you read?” “No” I have an answer that just stops me in my tracks. We talk about her meds, she doesn’t know that she was supposed to take them at certain times – she can’t read the package. Her boyfriend picks up her meds – but he can’t read either. We decide on a bed with a sun over it for the morning medications, and a bed with a moon for bedtime – she drinks soup for lunch so that is a soup bowl and a spoon. She feels better. She is a person, a collaborator, a being that I am honored to have a chance to be with. I tell the other nurses during shift change – some are astounded. I mark her chart, and contact the pharmacy who are also not aware of the problem. She had been without her medication because we didn’t just sit, and we didn’t just listen – I am so grateful that this time I could sit and breathe with her. I hope it makes a difference for her, it did for me.