The Dalai Lama is speaking at Tulane’s graduation this weekend, as well as at a conference on resilience.

Every time I’ve seen him interviewed or heard him speak, he’s exuded this sense of serenity and he has a great, joyous laugh. The few friends of mine who have had a private audience with him in Dharamsala felt it was a transcendent moment and they felt they were in the presence of true holiness. One friend brought me back a wonderful gift: a red wrist tie blessed by the Dalai Lama. I think you’re supposed to wear it until it falls off. This may sound crazy, but I’ve saved mine for some time when I feel I really need it. 

Among those in the audience at one of his three speeches over the weekend will be 19 people who were at the Mother’s Day Parade shooting last Sunday in New Orleans’ 7th Ward, according to www.nola.com. That seems fitting. What also seems fitting, in a strange way, is that he will be given an honorary degree at Tulane alongside Allen Toussaint and Dr. John. Wouldn’t you like to sit in on any conversation the three of them have? It will be musical, for sure. 

I don’t agree with everything the Dalai Lama says: for example, he’s against same-sex relationships. Even though I wish he didn’t oppose them  I have no doubt that he treats anyone in one that he meets with respect and compassion.

My two favorite sayings of his are: “My religion is vey simple. My religion is kindness,” and “If you think you are too small to make a difference, try sleeping with a mosquito.” 

The older I get, I’ve really come to believe that kindness is what matters most in this world. Sometimes when friends are thinking about setting me up and ask me what I’m looking for in a man, I’ve found now that “kindness” is the first word out of my mouth and I really mean it.  It’s what I look for in all my connections. I have very few friends who say mean things, but kindness goes so far beyond that... it’s a general understanding of the suffering of others and that we are here to help make other people’s lives better. We are here to lift up others, not put them down. That means all sentient beings. As I’m writing this, I’m wondering where I put some notes I made last year when I heard a Buddhist monk speak. He talked about four basic precepts of Buddhism and compassion was at the very top of the list.  If I can find it, I’ll write about it at some other time. 

The second saying really goes to the heart of this blog and my daily giving. There are days when I’m embarrassed that I’m only giving $10 to a cause and think that it can’t possibly be making a difference and then I think back to when I ran a half-marathon for the Leukemia and Lymphoma Society a few years ago and I asked people to donate. I remember one person sent me a check for $5 and I was so pleased. In some ways, it meant more to me than the checks that had zeros in the amount (not that I didn’t appreciate those as well).  

Most days, I realize that giving money is about so much more than the amount. With each donation I make, I am sending the charity a good intention,  a wish that it succeed in its mission, that it make a difference in the world. I’m expressing a belief that by making the world a little better for people that I will never cross paths with who are fighting battles, in many cases, completely different than mine, the world will be a little better for all of us. 

I hope the Dalai Lama would approve.

Today’s $10 goes to The Dalai Lama Trust. The New York-based charity, founded by the Dalai Lama in 2009, promotes educational opportunities, supports institutions working for the welfare of the Tibetian people, fosters dialog between science and religion, and encourages non-violence, among its missions, according to the website.

May 17: The Dalai Lama Trust

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137 down, 228 to go!

Today, it’s all about the girls. And by girls, I mean ta-tas, breasteses, balloons, melons...you get the idea. 

Everywhere I went today, people were talking about Angelina Jolie’s New York Times editorial about deciding to undergo a preventative double mastectomy since she carried the BRCA gene.   By “everywhere,” I mean I just happened to be having my annual mammogram today. When I brought it up to my technician, she raved about Jolie’s decision and felt that it was 100% the way to go. As she manipulated my girls to and fro, she voiced very strong opinions about lumpectomies (not in favor) and mastectomies (in favor).

We’ve made such strides against breast cancer, but the stats are still staggering. Most women know them: A woman has a 1:8 chance of developing breast cancer; every three minutes, there is a new diagnosis of breast cancer; approximately 230,480 women will be diagnosed with breast cancer this year.

Speaking of strides, while I was galavanting around New Orleans two weekends ago, three of my friends were walking 39 miles over two days in the Avon Walk for Breast Cancer in Washington, D.C. This year was their fifth anniversary of doing the walk together. My admiration for them knows no bounds. I’ve done a half-marathon, and the thought of doing a marathon and a half-marathon in subsequent days is unimaginable to me. They have walked in rain, in heat, in cold...when they’ve had other events that they scampered off to as soon as they crossed the finish line, but they remain committed. I’m very proud of them. 

It’s Chooseday Tuesday, so today today’s $10 (+$90) goes to Karen Burbage in gratitude for the strides she made this year. (I donate $100 to one of the three women every year, so I didn’t want to only contribute $10)

Walkers are expected to raise $1,800. That means each walker’s money allows three uninsured women who have lost a breast to cancer to get a prosthesis or provides counseling for 24 newly diagnosed women or provides 180 low-income patients transportation to doctors’ appointments, according to the Avon site. Since the Avon Walk started in 2003, walkers have raised more than $472 million.  That’s taking care of a lot of breasts.

May 14: Avon Walk for Breast Cancer

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I remember visiting Tipitina’s on one of my first trips to New Orleans more than 20 years ago. I don’t remember who was playing in the club, probably some local Zydeco band, which narrows it down to 1000 or so, but I do remember dancing and sweating and drinking the night away. And laughing.  

It’s called The Big Easy for a reason. If you try to rush things, the locals just laugh at you. New Orleans, whether it’s because of the heat and humidity or southerness, is meant to be savored. If you’re in a hurry, just stay home. 

I didn’t fit in a trip to Tipitina’s this time and that’s just one reason I’m sad my time in New Orleans is coming to an end. 

I’ve been at Jazz Fest when it’s been 95 degrees and 95% humidity and it was miserable. My friend and I would go into the kid’s music tent and lie down in the back like hobos in a boxcar to get away from the heat and sleep. My pavement and the rubber on my sneakers were both melting. 

That wasn’t the case this year which most folks believe was the coolest Jazz Fest on record and it was certainly the coldest it’s been when I’ve been in New Orleans. It was low 60s and cloudy or raining for Thursday and Friday and sunny and low 70s on Saturday and Sunday. Rain or shine, the music was great. 

Music flows through New Orleans like the Mississippi River and Tipitina’s is part of that. The Tipitina’s Foundation supports school music programs in New Orleans through a variety of ways, including its Instruments A Comin’ benefit concert and battle of the bands. So far, Tipitina’s has raiased more than $2.5 million worth of musical instrumentsfor more than 75 schools. 

May 5: Tipitina’s Foundation

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125  down, 240 to go

As I wrote yesterday, I’m in New Orleans and as has been my wont this year, when I’m traveling, I like to try to donate to a local charity.

 It’s fun for me to research what’s going on where I’m visiting and I leave a little bit more of my money in a town beyond what I spend on food, hotels and other touristy or business travel stuff. 

As much as I raved about New Orleans in yesterday’s post, there’s no getting around the poverty that exists here that seems impossible to escape. Rural poverty has its own feel that is very different from urban poverty and New Orleans is one of those places that is laden with both. 

Today, I was talking to my taxi driver when we went to the Treme to eat at Willie Mae’s, a famous fried chicken joint. As we drove down Canal, I commented on the tremendous number of empty storefronts, some of them have been empty for decades, like the Woolworths; others, like the Radisson, simply never reopened after Katrina.

New Orleans is one of those places where a lot of the taxi drivers are natives, so I wasn’t surprised that my driver had grown up here. He said he felt that New Orleans was about 65% back to its pre-Katrina levels, but that the 9th Ward, where so much of Katrina’s destruction occurred, was only about 20% recovered. 

The locals revere Brad Pitt for all he’s done in the reconstruction effort. He’s a local hero and for good reason. 

The New Orleans Faith Health Alliance is a non-profit organization that provides affordable health care for uninsured workers in New Orleans. Members pre-enroll and pay baed on a sliding fee. 

May 3: New Orleans Faith Health Alliance

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123 down, 242 to go

I’m in New Orleans for Jazz Fest. It’s probably my seventh or eighth time in New Orleans and there is simply no other city in the world like it. Way too many cities are indistinguishable from other cities but there is no way to mistake New Orleans for any place other than what it is. It is a city with its own big, beautiful, outrageous personality. 

New Orleans almost commands that you have a good time in a way that feels so much more real and authentic than that other US city devoted to partying: Las Vegas. In fact, New Orleans is the anti-Las Vegas. You come to New Orleans and accept it on its own terms, as it does you.  You fit into it, instead of the city trying to determine how to please you with its false Eiffel Towers.  And the weirder and quirkier your personality, the more New Orleans loves you. To steal from TBS:  Characters welcome.

I got here too late to go to the Jazz Fest grounds, so I was walking around the French Quarter when the sky opened up and it started pouring, I mean pouring, down rain. I tucked under the door frame of an abandoned art gallery beside a street musician, who had set up shop there.  

His sign read, “Blues harp stylist that other harmonica players come to see when they want to be entertained.”  He had quit playing during the storm, but he had quite the set up. He had a little table with a tiny amp on it. He also sported a hat with Blues Harp on it. He’d gotten the hat at Walmart for $2.99, but it cost $15 to get it embroidered.

In that magical way that only happens in New Orleans, my friend from New York, whom I had yet to connect with, ran into the same doorway. 

We asked Ron if he’d play for us and he graciously consented. He also had a Walkman that had a CD full of beats on it. He picked a track, picked up his mic, which he wore on his middle finger like a ring, and played some might tasty blues harmonica for us. We were joined by some other folks for awhile, but it was basically a private show. I was very happy to drop $10 into his bag.

Ron had been a long-distance truck driver based in Atlanta, and whenever his schedule permitted, he’d come back to Atlanta and play with a bunch of musicians in the Atlanta Underground. After he retired from driving, he moved to New Orleans and figured he could make a little extra scratch playing his harmonica in the French Quarter during the weekends when tourists were abundant. 

If you’re in New Orleans, look for him.

May 2: Ron DeLoach, blues harp stylist

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