Ra Allotment today!
9:45 a.m. Thursday.
I was up the allotment for a bit yesterday. Once or twice the fork would hardly go into a ground when I was digging. It's been sultry, warm and dry, quite unlike Scotland should be. The earth is parched. Strange days.
The homeless and hungry people came to Edinburgh in 1990. They weren't here in 1989 when I went to Australia for a year, but they were there when we got back, and they're still here. You know who they are because they've got signs saying Homeless and Hungry. If you walk across the beautiful, wonderful city, you might pass three or four. If I was to join them someday, I'd need a sign. Too Blissed To Be Buggered.
If I get any good at the vajrayana, some day I may be in heaven on this earth. Sacred vision, it's called. Part of the deity yoga, mandala juju. You might as well be in heaven sitting on the pavement. Some of these folk are alright at sitting as well. They don't have chairs. Shame they don't know about ra bliss. Anyway, I guess I'll spend most of the day in the allotment, getting into ra bliss. Hotboy
6.p.m.
I was at the allotment till about three, just meditating. Then I went for my longer, flatter run. It took me a wee bit over forty five minutes and I guess it's about six miles.
Teeshirt, woolly jumper, sweatshirt, then a baggy, sleeveless woolly jumper. Ski hat. You head out towards the Forth Bridge and cut off down Craigcrook Place. This turns into Craigcrook Road and this area is very nice. In fact, just before you turn off again and start on the Ravelstone Dyke Road to come back home is one of the nicest places in Edinburgh. It just is. I don't know why. There's a pleasant atmosphere. The bungalows of the bourgeois face onto a verdant green park and there's woodland there. Going up the only real hilly part from Craigcrook Road, there are woods on one side and a golf course on the other. Could be in the country. Then you start coming down Ravelstone Dykes, which has cherry blossom trees (not out now!) on either side of the road. I love running down that road. Then in ten minutes or so you're back home.
No beggars panhandle along this route. If you chapped on all the doors and asked all the people, I'm sure, no one would know anything about ra bliss. How many folk in this town meditate for more than two hours a day. Almost none. Flatheids to the left of you. Flatheids to the right of you.
I've given up being normal, Adolf. Normal people don't get ra bliss. At best, they get a compensation lifestyle and live in nice places that eventually no one visits. Thank god for stoicism.
I'm going back to the allotment this evening to meditate and dig up some tatties to take to my maw in Bellshill. I told someone there last week that I lived in Edinburgh. That's a shame, they said. Middle class people live in nice houses and have walls. They don't have communities. They don't know anyone. Rather dead than bourgeois! Hotboy
11:52P.M.
Thank god, pissed again! Can't be really pissed or I couldn't type. Compassion and altruism are the basis of the path. Hinayanas need discipline, the boy says. Mahayana seems more concerned with compassion. Levels of importance. Outer tantra, whatever that is, means you emanate solo. Inner tantra, which makes you arise with a consort ... well, I think you arise with a consort. We arise together. Simultaneously. Together. As one thing . Without self. In the Kalachakra Mandala. This is heaven. You are red. You are completely gorgeous. I am blue. I can spell words like consort. Or concert. I think the best translation was from Mary P. A sweetie. As you sit and I look down on your lovely face, I say: Never ever in all the times - the past, the present, and the future - have we ever been as wonderful as this. Without clinging. Without craving. In ra bliss.
So how's about that then? Are you on my lap, or not? If you are, clap your hands, and say: ' I am one with the one. I have lost myself in ra bliss, ra rapture and ra ecstasy. Altruism and compassion is the basis of the path. Non self and emptiness.'
Hope you enjoyed that down in Birmingham, Alabama!
This is RaBlissBlog. You heard it here first, and the weekend hasn't started yet!
So 1503 clicky things have visited RablissBlog. I know that's only four folk, some spam robots and the odd Masii warrior, but I can't remember what else I should have been doing! HotboyMadyamisaSurfingTheOceansOfBliss
I was up the allotment for a bit yesterday. Once or twice the fork would hardly go into a ground when I was digging. It's been sultry, warm and dry, quite unlike Scotland should be. The earth is parched. Strange days.
The homeless and hungry people came to Edinburgh in 1990. They weren't here in 1989 when I went to Australia for a year, but they were there when we got back, and they're still here. You know who they are because they've got signs saying Homeless and Hungry. If you walk across the beautiful, wonderful city, you might pass three or four. If I was to join them someday, I'd need a sign. Too Blissed To Be Buggered.
If I get any good at the vajrayana, some day I may be in heaven on this earth. Sacred vision, it's called. Part of the deity yoga, mandala juju. You might as well be in heaven sitting on the pavement. Some of these folk are alright at sitting as well. They don't have chairs. Shame they don't know about ra bliss. Anyway, I guess I'll spend most of the day in the allotment, getting into ra bliss. Hotboy
6.p.m.
I was at the allotment till about three, just meditating. Then I went for my longer, flatter run. It took me a wee bit over forty five minutes and I guess it's about six miles.
Teeshirt, woolly jumper, sweatshirt, then a baggy, sleeveless woolly jumper. Ski hat. You head out towards the Forth Bridge and cut off down Craigcrook Place. This turns into Craigcrook Road and this area is very nice. In fact, just before you turn off again and start on the Ravelstone Dyke Road to come back home is one of the nicest places in Edinburgh. It just is. I don't know why. There's a pleasant atmosphere. The bungalows of the bourgeois face onto a verdant green park and there's woodland there. Going up the only real hilly part from Craigcrook Road, there are woods on one side and a golf course on the other. Could be in the country. Then you start coming down Ravelstone Dykes, which has cherry blossom trees (not out now!) on either side of the road. I love running down that road. Then in ten minutes or so you're back home.
No beggars panhandle along this route. If you chapped on all the doors and asked all the people, I'm sure, no one would know anything about ra bliss. How many folk in this town meditate for more than two hours a day. Almost none. Flatheids to the left of you. Flatheids to the right of you.
I've given up being normal, Adolf. Normal people don't get ra bliss. At best, they get a compensation lifestyle and live in nice places that eventually no one visits. Thank god for stoicism.
I'm going back to the allotment this evening to meditate and dig up some tatties to take to my maw in Bellshill. I told someone there last week that I lived in Edinburgh. That's a shame, they said. Middle class people live in nice houses and have walls. They don't have communities. They don't know anyone. Rather dead than bourgeois! Hotboy
11:52P.M.
Thank god, pissed again! Can't be really pissed or I couldn't type. Compassion and altruism are the basis of the path. Hinayanas need discipline, the boy says. Mahayana seems more concerned with compassion. Levels of importance. Outer tantra, whatever that is, means you emanate solo. Inner tantra, which makes you arise with a consort ... well, I think you arise with a consort. We arise together. Simultaneously. Together. As one thing . Without self. In the Kalachakra Mandala. This is heaven. You are red. You are completely gorgeous. I am blue. I can spell words like consort. Or concert. I think the best translation was from Mary P. A sweetie. As you sit and I look down on your lovely face, I say: Never ever in all the times - the past, the present, and the future - have we ever been as wonderful as this. Without clinging. Without craving. In ra bliss.
So how's about that then? Are you on my lap, or not? If you are, clap your hands, and say: ' I am one with the one. I have lost myself in ra bliss, ra rapture and ra ecstasy. Altruism and compassion is the basis of the path. Non self and emptiness.'
Hope you enjoyed that down in Birmingham, Alabama!
This is RaBlissBlog. You heard it here first, and the weekend hasn't started yet!
So 1503 clicky things have visited RablissBlog. I know that's only four folk, some spam robots and the odd Masii warrior, but I can't remember what else I should have been doing! HotboyMadyamisaSurfingTheOceansOfBliss
posted by Hotboy at 9:42 AM
6 Comments:
Hotboy. When I lived in Edinburgh I used to watch TV sitting on a dining chair with the legs sawn off. It was like yoga for lazy people.
Even in those days I lacked the work ethic. No wonder I got a dodgy back. No backbone.
Heather don't do what I did. How is your back anyway?
Good Lord - take a nap and anything can happen. Yes, I gave Doviko 'permissions' to start a blog, but then he uses it to try to get a job for the gardener. Give him one for initiative, though.
This maize-mat flying thing - not completely far fetched, though, not in these parts, anyway.
As for Cabbage - pleasant enough chap. Had him for 8 months, and he usually pitches up on time. If you require a written reference, just let me know.
MM III
I still find the hut and allotment interesting. They don't have those here!
This might be the perfect proposition, Mingin! I need someone to dig the allotment while I sit in the hut. I would like Cabbage to have some IT skills though. He could hand me the laptop to order the peyote, for instance, and then run away for a bit when the great black bird came down to cleanse me. Cabbage will save me. I must have saved him once before. So spontaneous saving is good. Hotboy
Hello Hotboy! What made you think of me? Do you think it would be hard for me to understand you in person? Sometimes reading your words I go around in circles...beautiful words, I just do not always comprehend. I am thinking your accent would completely overcome me as well. Wish I could hear you speak.
Hi Wudsong! Nice to hear from you. I checked on Michi when her blog wouldn't take comments. Something is knackered there. Her posts keep getting lost in cyberspace. She says she's going to get it fixed. Last I heard she was somwhere where bluegrass grew. Might have been Nebraska or Kentucky. Hope she starts posting again soon!
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