Ra Samye!
Of course, it's been raining on and off, but I got here this morning dry and pitched the tent with some confidence ... well, more than previously. The tent was up no bother! This is the third time I've been here with a tent since the first time in October. Once I stayed in a room. Four times since October.
I don't think I've ever arrived here in such good condition for meditating. I've been doing plenty. But I was up at five this morning, so the only problem has been dozing off after the spectacularly good lunch, as usual. I'm only here for three nights this time and I don't want to take ages settling down.
I sent off twenty emails to agents yesterday and, after checking the site statistics on my web page, it seems that there was one hit. So I suppose Ben Mason, who asked for the three chapters, did take a peek. Also, someone got to this blog after putting Lucy Luck into Google. That's kind of odd. Sort of inhibits you from being scathing about agents. Anyway, I had hopes for Lucy Luck. She's got to be Chinese and I could have impressed her with my tai chi set! Unfortunately, she wasn't interested, or was too busy.
This is going to be an interesting couple of days!! Heat, bliss, light, who knows? At last, back at the Samye!!
The wee bit I've managed to read about Gopi Krishna in Living with Kundalini has been dead interesting. It wasn't written on a word processor. You can tell! Really nice writing. Also, he was surrounded by saintly people from the word go. His old man walked off the park early doors and let his maw get on with looking after everyone with no dosh, etc. Father is a holy man and the maw is a saint. The book reminds me of the Autobiography of a Yogi. Similarly interesting personalities here and there. One guy kept up a job all week then went home to be a yogi at the weekend. Covered himself in ash and wore a loin cloth. Folk would come to see him to ask him about stuff and he always answered without waiting for the question. Someone from his work showed up and he did this to him. This might give you pause for thought. Not much point in giving a subordinate like that a piece of your mind!
The real Brian Wilson is coming to Glasgow again in the summer. My Brian Wilson, who thinks he has the same molecules as the real Brian Wilson, took me to see him the last time. Sitting there, waiting quietly for the show to start, Brian Wilson (mine) whipped out the pig's face from his inside pocket and started chewing before he handed me a little refreshment in an unmarked carton. I think I remember someone saying, "and this is ... Brian Wilson!" That's all I got for fifty quid. Not in quite the same league as falling asleep during Jimi Hendrix at the Isle of Wight. When Jimi H. said, 'That's the end of surf music!" at Monterey, he didn't realise that molecules can go and get in everywhere!
There is nowhere quite like this place anywhere else. I love this place. I get such a huge benefit from coming here. This is the biz. This is where you come for ra bliss, ra bliss, ra bliss!!
I don't think I've ever arrived here in such good condition for meditating. I've been doing plenty. But I was up at five this morning, so the only problem has been dozing off after the spectacularly good lunch, as usual. I'm only here for three nights this time and I don't want to take ages settling down.
I sent off twenty emails to agents yesterday and, after checking the site statistics on my web page, it seems that there was one hit. So I suppose Ben Mason, who asked for the three chapters, did take a peek. Also, someone got to this blog after putting Lucy Luck into Google. That's kind of odd. Sort of inhibits you from being scathing about agents. Anyway, I had hopes for Lucy Luck. She's got to be Chinese and I could have impressed her with my tai chi set! Unfortunately, she wasn't interested, or was too busy.
This is going to be an interesting couple of days!! Heat, bliss, light, who knows? At last, back at the Samye!!
The wee bit I've managed to read about Gopi Krishna in Living with Kundalini has been dead interesting. It wasn't written on a word processor. You can tell! Really nice writing. Also, he was surrounded by saintly people from the word go. His old man walked off the park early doors and let his maw get on with looking after everyone with no dosh, etc. Father is a holy man and the maw is a saint. The book reminds me of the Autobiography of a Yogi. Similarly interesting personalities here and there. One guy kept up a job all week then went home to be a yogi at the weekend. Covered himself in ash and wore a loin cloth. Folk would come to see him to ask him about stuff and he always answered without waiting for the question. Someone from his work showed up and he did this to him. This might give you pause for thought. Not much point in giving a subordinate like that a piece of your mind!
The real Brian Wilson is coming to Glasgow again in the summer. My Brian Wilson, who thinks he has the same molecules as the real Brian Wilson, took me to see him the last time. Sitting there, waiting quietly for the show to start, Brian Wilson (mine) whipped out the pig's face from his inside pocket and started chewing before he handed me a little refreshment in an unmarked carton. I think I remember someone saying, "and this is ... Brian Wilson!" That's all I got for fifty quid. Not in quite the same league as falling asleep during Jimi Hendrix at the Isle of Wight. When Jimi H. said, 'That's the end of surf music!" at Monterey, he didn't realise that molecules can go and get in everywhere!
There is nowhere quite like this place anywhere else. I love this place. I get such a huge benefit from coming here. This is the biz. This is where you come for ra bliss, ra bliss, ra bliss!!
posted by Hotboy at 3:49 PM
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