Ra Further and Further
9:35p.m. Saturday. No, Friday!
Started meditating this evening about half six. The flat was empty. It was easy to see how much damage six beers can do. Concentration. Focus. Funged. Distraction reigns. Restlessness. But just sit there and do the breath. Ra bliss, sort of, doesn't care. Here comes ra bliss!
Still, you know what you're missing, kind of. The mind is still full of crap. This is not the clear mind. You're getting in the way by acting like a very stupid person and drinking the beers. Tut, tut. But you can still sit and gaze on the photie of the lama. The mind has calmed down a bit. Do the vase breath. Here comes a moon shot. That was a bit of a surprise! You'd been getting a fair bit of ra bliss up till then, but this was starting to be a bit exceptional.
And so it went on. Getting better and better and better. I'll do a breath just now and try to describe it.
This is where I should be Emile Zola. He could do descriptions. I'm no very good at that, but I'll give it a shot.
If Lee Ann is reading this as well a Jack the Spam Robot, a vase breath is when you take a big lungful and squeeze a symbol at your navel chakra from the top and bottom.
What we're talking about here is raising inner heat, the foundation practice for the 6 Dharmas of Naropa, which previously was practised surrounded in great secrecy in the monasteries and mountains of Tibet. The ultimate juju!
Don't try this at home, kids. Old hippies and anyone else who ever fancied getting out of their nut ... well, just send the cheques now. The eyeballs are going to pop right out of your head! All you risk is madness, chronic ill health and possible death. The usual health warning. To paint the picture ... It's Saturday night at ten past ten. The kid is watching Rainman on the telly. I'm sitting here waiting to eat some more toast and drink the coffee. The noise blockers are on. The main light is out. Here comes the breath.
There is a difference tonight again. The ears roar. It feels so fantastic I just can't do what I was trying to do. There's a kind of delicious tension across your neck at the front. It kind of makes you want to pull back into a rictus grin and for your eyes to go very wide open. I'd rather do it for a wee bit than blog about it. You have moved out the sensory limits of your skin. There seems to be a width of sensation at the front that wasn't there before. I've blogged about a kind of sheath before. You seem now to have become somewhat unhinged from your bearings, as if the bottom half of your body ( in a half lotus) is kind of shoogling about. All the sensations now are somewhat delectable. Here comes ra bliss!
The most fantastic symphony of sensation moves up. I don't know how you could ever come close to this with anything else. Fiery pulses, staccatto. Hard to think of anything you couldn't transcend with this stashed away. Eyes closed, it's light sword time. Fiery pulsing like that and the smoothness ... something exceptional might happen here. Om Mani Padme Hung. This is ra bliss!
Time out. Interrupted by one of the people who live here. They both mock my blogging. The kid tells her how long. Now they've left me alone for another bit. No, they haven't. The domestic bliss might be going to Detroit. The Sweet Adelines. I kid you not. No one will be singing barber shop in New Orleans a month from now. Back to ... you can see how I'd do better on the Unheard of Island ... ra bliss. Breath in.
Nobody can take it away. They can't make it illegal. These are among the most wonderful feelings I have ever felt. Every time something like this happens it seems to be brand new. The wonderment. Om Mani Padme Hung.
If what is happening to me happened suddenly, you could freak. I imagine. Like old age. You maybe need a long time to get used to it. Doctor! Doctor! I'm dying of ra bliss. In a way, it's fantastically hedonistic. You're way at the edge of the most fantastic sensations you've ever had, or could even have previously imagined. This is RaBlissBlog having the most wonderful Saturday night investigating ra bliss! The great buddha, Lama Yeshe Losal is my guru. May he live ten thousand years. Do twelve years in retreat and two sessions of 49 days in the dark and see where your mind is then. It is way beyond my comprehension. And I'm a hotboy.
It's eleven twenty. I might blog later. I go and get some beers. For there's nothing so lonesome, lonely and queer. What a terrible place is a pub with no beer!
12:50p.m.
Drank two bottles of Hoegaarden. Grand Cru. Alc 8.5% vol. Sold in 33cl bottles. Now, that is a beer! Because thou art saved, shall there be no more cakes and ale? I cannot work out whether my tantra is inner, outer, or sideways. It doesn't matter. If you want to know anything about Tibetan Buddhism, ask Lama Yeshe Losal. This is just about ra bliss. Having a wonderful time in Edinburgh. HotboyMadyamikaS.O.B.
Started meditating this evening about half six. The flat was empty. It was easy to see how much damage six beers can do. Concentration. Focus. Funged. Distraction reigns. Restlessness. But just sit there and do the breath. Ra bliss, sort of, doesn't care. Here comes ra bliss!
Still, you know what you're missing, kind of. The mind is still full of crap. This is not the clear mind. You're getting in the way by acting like a very stupid person and drinking the beers. Tut, tut. But you can still sit and gaze on the photie of the lama. The mind has calmed down a bit. Do the vase breath. Here comes a moon shot. That was a bit of a surprise! You'd been getting a fair bit of ra bliss up till then, but this was starting to be a bit exceptional.
And so it went on. Getting better and better and better. I'll do a breath just now and try to describe it.
This is where I should be Emile Zola. He could do descriptions. I'm no very good at that, but I'll give it a shot.
If Lee Ann is reading this as well a Jack the Spam Robot, a vase breath is when you take a big lungful and squeeze a symbol at your navel chakra from the top and bottom.
What we're talking about here is raising inner heat, the foundation practice for the 6 Dharmas of Naropa, which previously was practised surrounded in great secrecy in the monasteries and mountains of Tibet. The ultimate juju!
Don't try this at home, kids. Old hippies and anyone else who ever fancied getting out of their nut ... well, just send the cheques now. The eyeballs are going to pop right out of your head! All you risk is madness, chronic ill health and possible death. The usual health warning. To paint the picture ... It's Saturday night at ten past ten. The kid is watching Rainman on the telly. I'm sitting here waiting to eat some more toast and drink the coffee. The noise blockers are on. The main light is out. Here comes the breath.
There is a difference tonight again. The ears roar. It feels so fantastic I just can't do what I was trying to do. There's a kind of delicious tension across your neck at the front. It kind of makes you want to pull back into a rictus grin and for your eyes to go very wide open. I'd rather do it for a wee bit than blog about it. You have moved out the sensory limits of your skin. There seems to be a width of sensation at the front that wasn't there before. I've blogged about a kind of sheath before. You seem now to have become somewhat unhinged from your bearings, as if the bottom half of your body ( in a half lotus) is kind of shoogling about. All the sensations now are somewhat delectable. Here comes ra bliss!
The most fantastic symphony of sensation moves up. I don't know how you could ever come close to this with anything else. Fiery pulses, staccatto. Hard to think of anything you couldn't transcend with this stashed away. Eyes closed, it's light sword time. Fiery pulsing like that and the smoothness ... something exceptional might happen here. Om Mani Padme Hung. This is ra bliss!
Time out. Interrupted by one of the people who live here. They both mock my blogging. The kid tells her how long. Now they've left me alone for another bit. No, they haven't. The domestic bliss might be going to Detroit. The Sweet Adelines. I kid you not. No one will be singing barber shop in New Orleans a month from now. Back to ... you can see how I'd do better on the Unheard of Island ... ra bliss. Breath in.
Nobody can take it away. They can't make it illegal. These are among the most wonderful feelings I have ever felt. Every time something like this happens it seems to be brand new. The wonderment. Om Mani Padme Hung.
If what is happening to me happened suddenly, you could freak. I imagine. Like old age. You maybe need a long time to get used to it. Doctor! Doctor! I'm dying of ra bliss. In a way, it's fantastically hedonistic. You're way at the edge of the most fantastic sensations you've ever had, or could even have previously imagined. This is RaBlissBlog having the most wonderful Saturday night investigating ra bliss! The great buddha, Lama Yeshe Losal is my guru. May he live ten thousand years. Do twelve years in retreat and two sessions of 49 days in the dark and see where your mind is then. It is way beyond my comprehension. And I'm a hotboy.
It's eleven twenty. I might blog later. I go and get some beers. For there's nothing so lonesome, lonely and queer. What a terrible place is a pub with no beer!
12:50p.m.
Drank two bottles of Hoegaarden. Grand Cru. Alc 8.5% vol. Sold in 33cl bottles. Now, that is a beer! Because thou art saved, shall there be no more cakes and ale? I cannot work out whether my tantra is inner, outer, or sideways. It doesn't matter. If you want to know anything about Tibetan Buddhism, ask Lama Yeshe Losal. This is just about ra bliss. Having a wonderful time in Edinburgh. HotboyMadyamikaS.O.B.
posted by Hotboy at 9:31 PM
7 Comments:
I'm not a student.
This happened last night! It's half an hour after midnight here in Edinburgh. Hello, Alecia. The photie looks great from here. Hotboy
First it was viagra, now those ingenious spammers are using real photos to sell alopecia treatments in wee blue bottles.
Great description hotboy, this is more like it, ditch the buddhist dictionary and just blog the adventure. Plus the beer labels. You almost had me interested in trying a couple of vase breaths myself.
I read your Blog Hotboy, for many reasons. Entertainment, my need for sheer confoundation at times, and my interest of others mediatation experiences. And I can say, after a couple months of reading, that I am really not clear on the bliss business.
Maybe its because I only practice Samatha. I rarely feel bliss during or after. Well, I might have touched a bit of bliss after my week long retreat - otherwise - its mostly very ordinary. Its relaxing to me, sometimes its a pain in the ass (literally), sometimes I am frutrated, and others I am in the zone. I don't think I would use the word bliss though.My experience is too subtle. I don't do as much visualizations either...
just some random thoughts on a random saturday morning.
oh yeah...
whats Juju?
H
Hi Heather! Juju might be a word from W. Africa originally. I use it to cover ... almost anything kind of in the religious/miraculous or juju field.
I assume all minds are more or less the same at the end of the day. As long as you stick with the calming you'll get it eventually. Ra bliss. Last night and today (it's four forty!) it went to new levels with me. It's astonishing and not really explicable rationally yet. But if you can stick out that retreat you did, you will get bliss. Just don't give up. Maybe try to keep a mantra in your head whatever you're doing. I know it's hard. It's sometimes hard here as well, but almost everything else is a waste of time.
There's a description about ch 5 in my book the Buddha and the Big bad Wolf of non-self and emptiness. I got that before too much bliss arrived. I think that might be more important anyway. Thanks for sticking with the ramblings. I read your blog every time. Hope your kids are good boys today. Hotboy
Well, Well, Well.
I was relaxing in the library this morning, taking in the broadsheets, and vaguely aware that the doorbell had gone, when who should Doviko usher in but none other than Helen Mirren!
Gosh - I havn't seen her for years.
It was absolutely lovely reminiscing about old times, and especially our trip with Peter Brook and the rest of the troup through the western Sahara (I was one of 'the crew' in those days - and a complete greenhorn).
My goodness, though - we completely emptied the Chivas.
I think I'd better go for a lie-down.
MM III
Hmm.
Who opened the Glayva?
MM III
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