Ra Vase Breath!

Tuesday 9:40 p.m.
I'm off work again today, but will be back tomorrow. I'm not so ill that I have to watch videos all day. I can sit. I'll sit and blog, sit and blog, all day. The flat will be empty till about ten this evening, so there will plenty of time for the juju, especially as the disease recedes throughout the day.

Hello, Jack. This post isn't really for casual readers. It's of no interest to Masai Warriors. If you meditate at all, it should be extremely interesting. At least, we'll start today with the vase breath.

Pranayama is breathing exercise. It's one of the eight limbs of yoga. When the kid was born, me and Shiva went to Iyengar Yoga classes. These are very good. The limitatations of this style of yoga are that it is too static; they don't do anything like enough pranayama; and they don't meditate. Partial. But thank god for Iyengar Yoga because the wonderful yoga teachers up in Bruntsfield taught me how to sit.

But they didn't teach me anything about vase breathing. I first encountered vase breathing in The Bliss Of Inner Fire, I think. It's a specialist kind of breathing exercise. You take the big breath and squeeze it round a symbol placed in your navel chakra. You hold for as long as it's comfortable and then let go. Simple.

I'd like to be a flatheid again and try that to see what happens. Nothing. Flatheids don't get ra bliss. You don't need vase breathing to get ra bliss, but if you haven't got ra bliss already, I don't see you getting much out of breathing exercises (other than all the other beneficial effects!). But I don't know.

I'm 55. I started meditating, I think, when I was about 33. I didn't meditate in a full lotus till I 40. I didn't know anything about vase breathing or any of the other techniques around the 6 Yogas of Naropa till I was 50 or 51. At the age my old man died, 52, I became a buddhist and had an empowerment to do deity yoga from the Great Buddha Lama Yeshe Losal.

I walked off the job for ten weeks nearly two years ago (about 15 months after the empowerment) and that's when I started getting the vase breathing to work. I sat in my hut.

This is like going through your life playing slowly slowly catchee monkey. Anyone who knows me, especially any of my younger relatives, and is not doing this is frankly a fung disgrace!

You take a breath, hold it, let go. If you'r a flatheid, that's it. Zip. Say you're doing the juju. Before you let go these days, something is happening already. You might get a brightness in the symbol. Your body feels shoogley in the position as if it's berth is moving a little. This is a slight floatiness. So you let go.

It starts in a kind of pre-bliss cloud and then goes BEAM. This is recent. It used to go wobbly, wobbly up your body with the delicious waves of bliss and then some warmth, but just there it went BEAM. Try again. It beams right into your face and head area, so it's not bothering too much with whatever is under that. It rises. (all of this feels fantastic. You have to remember that.) Try again. It's blissier and warmer. At this point the bliss is concentrated in your head. . There is a great expanse. You start to get a roaring sound in your ears.

Your guts go mushy heat. The heat starts blowing upwards. Now the great globules of bliss arise! Everything from here on in gets more intensse: you're breathing a lot less; the bliss gets thicker and there are far less thoughts.

I think what has been described is the beginning of vase breathing. Soon, I'll go into the lobby and continue and see where it goes today. It so much a beginner at this just now. My visualisations are very poor. My discipline, as anyone who reads this will know, is crap.

Questions, questions, questions. So you have connected somehow ra bliss with the breath. How does that work? I have no idea. Brought up with materialism and the scientific method, you have nothing to work with here. We've just got the bones, blood and piss of the gross body. What is it going up? Why is it going up? How does this technique operate? You read about sheaths and astral bodies, subtle bodies. I don't know. But I don't have to believe anything or disbelieve anything. I've got it to work. Or at least, I've got it to begin to work.

At some point it is said that the airs should enter the central channel. They should stabilise and dissolve. You should stop breathing. In the process of dissolution (death) you should be able to collect the four blisses. I don't know how far I've got in this.

At the end of the day you've got to have loss of the false sense of self. This has to, at least, go along with this, I think, or else you could get into all kinds of bother. You'd still have tons of undisciplined, selfish desires. How would you like me to purify your vitals for you, my little chickadee?

You have to remember that the vajrayana is continually amazing and astonishing. One of the weirdest things is that the vase breathing stuff works without the deep concentration necessary for other aspects of meditation. After a while, I seems that you can just do it. You have a connection between breath and bliss. Breathe out and here comes ra bliss!

Now, what's your excuse for being a flatheid? A daftie? An E.T. ? One of Them Prehensiles? Walking around with your head stuck up your arse ... well, the view must be quite good, or you must be a moron. I hope the view from where you are is so good that you don't need this kind of thing. I've heard people say they are happy and they don't meditate. They don't look happy to me!! Off to the lobby and into ra bliss!

1:00 p.m.
Alec McClochendichter came back! If you're not an anagram, go to my site. It's got six unpublished books and one unproduced play. The two kidsbooks are solid gold. I'm a school librarian. I've had two adult books published and about eight plays produced. I'm writing a novel about raising inner heat at the moment, etc. If you want a look at the first page, send me an email address and I'll send it to you.

If you are really a wind-up, I have just cursed your right ankle for wasting my time. You will fall over and hurt yourself. YOU WILL!

My disease is lifting perceptibly. I think I'll take it a walk over to the Botanic Gardens where I will look out over the beautiful city on this cold, clear day and read A Practice Manual on the 6 Yogas of Naropa: Taking the Practice in Hand by the great Je Lama Tsongkhapa (1357-1419). No wonder I can't be bothered reading novels anymore!

THIS POST WAS WRITTEN BY JOHN McKENZIE WHO HAS TEN BOOKS ON KINDLE. THE ONES CLOSELY CONNECTED WITH BUDDHISM, MEDITATION, BLISS, VASE BREATHING, TUMMO, ETC., ARE
http://www.amazon.co.uk/Buddha-Big-Bad-Wolf-ebook/dp/B005AIP7QE/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1319126284&sr=8-1
http://www.amazon.co.uk/Buddha-Big-Bad-Wolf-ebook/dp/B005AIP7QE/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1319126284&sr=8-
http://www.amazon.co.uk/Land-Demon-Masters-ebook/dp/B004XJ7OEO/ref=sr_1_1?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1319126424&sr=1-1
http://www.amazon.co.uk/The-Real-McCoy-ebook/dp/B0054H4MO4/ref=sr_1_1?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1319126490&sr=1-1

Ra Progress Report!

Sunday 11:40 p.m.
1) Knowing what ra bliss might be.
2) Doing all kinds of sit up blisses.
3) Getting ra bliss whilst lying on one' s back.
4) Getting ra bliss while now lying on one's side.
5) Ra bliss that consumes most of one's body and arms and legs, mostly, whilst one succumbs to the great expansiveness of the almost too blissed out bliss.
AND NOW, LADIES AND GENTLEMEN, DEMONSTRATED THIS WEEK FOR THE FIRST TIME, RA BLISS WHICH STAYS BLISSFUL EVEN AMONG THE RECREATIONALS AND THE FLATHEIDS.

Now, that I realise that I do not breathe in the same stuff as the flatheids, well, I must have gone mad. You mean to say, you can't get out of your face on air, can you? All I want is three square meals a day and all the time in the world to investigate ra bliss. What more do I have to say? Get me an ambulance. Get me to hospital!

Monday 11:30 a.m.
Clairvoyant or what! Up at three in the morning with the upchucking and the pounding brain. Being a man, I knew I was almost certain to be dead by morning, but survived to call in sick.

Funnily enough, someone has actually landed on this blog, pretending to be an editor from publishing. This is maybe the kind of joe who was supposed to come by here when this blog was set up a year ago. Except he'll be some kind of perverted anagram or Masai Warrior, like the rest of you! I think he might want to buy some of ra bliss. I could sell a bag like a glue sniffer's bag for a thousand pounds. Tons of ra bliss in one seemingly empty bag! You get the intructions on how to use the bag by getting them whispered in your ear. Okay? That'll be a thousand pounds! Rich! I'm going to be rich, I tell you!

Ra lahilton

Friday 10: 15 p.m.
Strange deeds in bloggyland. Almost every time I clicky onto Lee Anne's site, I get this post for Valentine's Day. I clicky onto Lee Ann's site a lot (even although I can't spell it!!). Lee Ann might be an anagram, but still a definite personality, I think. Is your daddy rich, and your mamma good lookin'? I think so. Are they so rich and powerful that they have subverted the world wide web to such an extent that all I can get from you is the wonderful Valentine Card? Do you realise that I am practically a Jedi Warrior, as well as an author and playwright? Also, primary carer for the kid when the space had to be filled. New man? What! I usually have to stay in or hang out in bars with old people with few teeth because of my effect on young women.

I can sing :"Love me tender, love me sweet .. and never let me go .." just like Elvis (if you've got a bad cold and can't hear too well). Or ... well, try to be romantic but not too awkward. Tom Hanks.

What I'd like to say is that if I have to be an object of desire then so be it. Well, with the narcississtic personality disorder on board, if you're rich, Lee Ann, I don't cost anything. I earn bugger all. I can tell you about ra bliss.

Just remember the last time you met anyone else who could tell you about ra bliss, Lee Ann. I'd run up hills. I'd get off ra beer! Actually, I'm a real toy. Okay, if the effort with the Valentine's Card Post .... well, I just give in. I don't cost anything. You just have to ask.

|Me and Adolf in the old days knew this is lying on zee back and waggling zee lege in zee air!

Rat Personality Disorder!

Thursday 9:35 p.m.
We will invade and throw Adolf off the other half of the Unheard of Island. We can ask Eric. He's been practising invading cold planets. You are no longer my agent in the Southern Hemisphere, Adolf. Doesn't matter how long you try, the penguins will never be able to read. Also, one cannot drink beer with no beer in it. It's just not right. Remember Rhoem and all those floricks? Well, pay up time, Adolf! Oh no! Here comes a big killer whale! It's just eaten you up!.

Brian Wilson: You are now solely in charge of marketing the site through the internet. You can chew on the pig's face as much as you like. You can have porno videos bonking at you from every angle. You have drink as much of the pink sticky stuff as you find necessary. Just remember! Don't even think under fifty grand. Don't pick up the phone for less than that!

Sandy! It has to be you. It all fits. At last. A wummin from ra west. With an allotment. Likes fixing things. Computer genius. Nae wanes! Three huts!

You have to ask yourself. How many folk could log onto the Hotboy site with the cave and the pengos and the beer adverts with Brian Wilson almost of the Beach Boys on your marketing team? Just someone sitting there or standing on their head all day. How big is the world? How many martians and Masai Warriors are just dying for ra bliss!?You could pay to have sitting competitions with Hotboy. Big bets!! We could clean up! We could sell my blood after I levitate! A drop of Hotboy blood between little squares of glass. You could be obliged to purchase this before you had to climb Ben Nevis to chuck the brick into the air ... signifying a boost in the Scottish tourist industry and throwing a brick in the air. Anyway, it would be better than working and also funny.

Isn't this the way of the 21st century juju? Scepticism, rationalism, ignorance and ra bliss!

This is all about the matter of getting the causes and conditions of emanating as a deity to come about. Please put your response to this advertisement into my comment section. All replies will be treated as confidential.

Friday Noon
Wakened today feeling headachey and wuzzy. Being a man, I knewI had a brain tumour and cancelled my usual Friday jaunt to see the aged parent in Bellshill. But once I got into the lobby, ra bliss seems to be flowing stronger than ever. It doesn't know about the brain tumour. If I can still shoot a breath up past the pain sites, we're on the money today.

I'm not supposed to get diseases unless on workdays. If this is not proof that God is not good, well, he could be doing a bit better, couldn't he?

But ra bliss is in extraordinary mode today!
2:30 p.m.
The vajrayana is a great adventure. You may think nothing could be more boring that sitting in the lobby half the day, but it was brilliant. The effects of the vase breath today took me somewhere I'd never been before. If you're a flatheid, you have to remember that this juju involves far more pleasure than you will ever experience even when it's not working very well. Even with the brain tumour, today was amazing.

My knee is almost a hundred percent again, but I don't think I can train with this disease, which is a great pity. However, I shall go to the allotment and sit in the hut, and maybe dig till I'm exhausted. I always enjoy a bath after that!!

Ra Day Off!

Thursday 10:08 a.m.
What a good day this is going to be! The weather is pretty miserable here in Edinburgh today; ovecast, drizzly. It would be better if it was not wet since I'd like to cycle to the hospital in Marchmont this afternoon.

I stayed up last night till about 2 a.m. investigating ra bliss. Though I got up around seven this morning, I feel a bit muggy. But very optimistic about the day! Ra bliss, ra bliss, ra bliss.

Flatheids are unavoidable this weekend. We're going to Lanarkshire to visit and I will behave badly, no doubt. Hmmm? Why can't I just go to the hut and tell them all to fung off!!

I used to rave about meditation to everyone. They did not meditate. What did they do with their time? Where did it go? What have they got for it? Grief, sorrow, lamentations ... suffering in this life.

I'm just annoyed because my yamas and niyamas are rubbish. And I don't wear pyjamas. (The first two are the things you're supposed to do and not supposed to do i.e. drink beer) I'll not drink in Lanarkshire. I'll sit there with my eyes rolled up, taking deep breaths and going bright red.

I'll have to try and be good because if I get as much as I look like getting with this juju, I don't want to turn into Darth Vadar. Anyone reading this who's thinking of getting a guru should remember that bad boys get ra bliss as well.

Still, I could always work on the disease I got from Adolf's blog: The Narcissistic Personality Disorder. Hmmm? Have to learn to float really. We need a St Joseph of Cupertino for ra juju!

They're making a graffic novel out of St Joseph. They're turning him into a super hero. Interesting guy. Hardly any brains at all. Floated about. I like tricks. It would be a great laugh to see a video of someone floating about. God, I'm so glad I'm not a flatheid!

This is a good reason to be good. After about a year and eight months of part time work, I've got from two grand in the bank to an overdraft of £750. That's my wages which I get paid on Friday. With ra bliss and ra heat at my back, I should start living on my wages now and start getting financially straightened out a bit. Purification costs bugger all!

Ra Number 12

Wednesday
Since 1999, I've had to go up from Stockbridge to Princes Street to get a bus to my workplace. When I started doing this, I was very pleased. Princes Street is as good a street to stand on waiting for a bus as anywhere in the world probably. Here comes the number 12.

I had to drink the twelve cans of Murphys on my own last night and was a little late getting up this morning. So I'm standing in Princes Street and here comes the 22. It's a single decker and doesn't go the way of the number 12, but is much faster. There are a lot of people on that bus and they're all squeezed up. They are not the evil bourgeois. Most are in their thirties and are not old enough to be the evil bourgeois. Most of them are not very good looking. This is the same all over northern Europe. Folk with mix and match faces put together by blind people. The bus is full. I sneezed twice. Avian flu and they're all dead.

The number 12 is a double decker and is not so fast and has less folk on it. It is my favourite bus of all time. This is a great bus journey. You get on at Princes Street and go upstairs. If the front seat is empty all the better. Put your hands into the sleeves of your jacket to keep them warm, and clutch the bag to your chest, close your eyes.

The bus goes all along Princes Street and does a bit of twisting and turning at Haymarket. Then it doesn't turn again till it gets near my work about twenty minutes later. So you know when to open your eyes. When it does the left turn at Costorphine. Then you see the Pentland Hills and the outside of town and you have to think: What a wonderful day to be emanating into!

A flatheid would always get the 22. Flatheids don't get ra bliss. They wouldn't keep their eyes shut till they got to Costorphine. When they close their eyes, all they get is their eyes closed. Dearie me. It's a shame. But it's not my fault that they're all flatheids. It really isn't.

7:20 p.m.
Despite falling into the open grave (again!) last night, what bliss I got this afternoon! Another bliss barrier bursted!! I keep failing to give things up, but I'm making brilliant progress anyway. I can't take any credit for this of course. The juju seems to have its own momentum. You observe in astonishment and awe. I had no idea there was so much of ra bliss! I kind of lost my body a bit today. More or less in a huge expansiveness of ra bliss. The effects of even a wee vase breath were amazing. You feel as if you're floating. It is wonderful.

I googled "experiences in meditation" and read about this woman having the most horrible time with kundalini, a real Gopi Krishna job. This is a very ill person. She also sounded like a nice person. She probably didn't ever drink 12 cans of Murphy's the night before getting zapped by ra bliss. I don't know what's going on. But I'm sure to have a fabulous time tonight and tomorrow!! What joy! What bliss! Oh, to surf the oceans of bliss!! Here comes ra heat! Here comes ra heat!

Rat Emptiness!

Tuesday
I think the way things are going that real yogis must be able to bring on ra bliss at any time. When you're dying, when you are living, shouldn't matter. Being ill shouldn't matter either. I mean it would matter with someone like me, but my assumption is that real yogis are only ill, if they get ill, when they're being ill. When they meditate, they won't feel ill surely!

Paramahansa Yogananda said if you're guru can't go instantly breathless, he's no use. Try doing that when you've got the flu. Have you still got the flu?
Anyway the thing about ra bliss is that is happens and you can work with it especially well by doing the juju. That's why the Kagyu folk claim skillful means. They've been doing this stuff for a thousand years so they probably know something about it by now.

Realisation of emptiness is really what you're after. Getting rid of the false sense of self, which is the thing that's going to die. I'm supposed to be combining emptiness with bliss i.e. sometimes when I'm in ra bliss and anything comes up, I'd apply an emptiness analysis.

Meditation should gradually affect all of your life. You'll be less stressed out. You will smile more. You will gradually become happier. You should count the improvement over decades because you live for decades. However, if you're a flatheid, maybe a fool or a moron, you shouldn't worry about this. When you die, you're dead. You're not coming back. That's your false sense of self. Throughout your life you can get on with your neurotic misapprehension of reality and that's okay. If there is rebirth, you get a chance to guzzle up the planet and continue to miss the point. Learning Difficulty Central. For eons, and eons. Still, there might be worse places you could be! Hope this helps!

6:05 p.m.
Just finished an after work meditation. Always a good time when the day is turning dark, but for the past couple of weeks the meditations have been coming along beautifully. Even although I am a bad boy. There's just so much bliss.

And there also will be quite a lot of ra piss! Bought twelve cans of Murphys on the way home. 4.1%, a beer you should be able to drink and drink and drink. Well, I can anyway.

I knew the guy who's coming to see us tonight better than anyone for a couple of years when we were at uni. We spent nearly six months in a caravanette together. Then I saw him when he came back to Edinburgh about seven or eight years later to finish his degree. And haven't seen him at all for twenty years or more. Doubt if twenty years will make much difference after a couple of cans, unless of course he asks me about ra bliss. I can go on about ra bliss for quite a while. A year on this blog will testify to that. Quite nervous about seeing him though. But it will be truly wonderful!!!

Ra Twenty Years Ago Today!

I heard yesterday that a guy I knew very well at university was coming for his tea tomorrow night. We can do that conversation you see on the tv when you're a kid: Why, how long ago was it? Twenty years, eh? Anyway, I haven't seen him for twenty years!!

One of the books on my site is called Alma Mater. This was the first thing I tried to write after leaving university. I re-wrote it a few times thereafter, but I don't think I've had a go at it for at least fifteen years. I had to read it when I was scanning it, etc. Didn't really ever shape us as a novel, but I'm glad I wrote it. I'll read it again when I'm in my seventies, if I last that long. Anyway, this guy who's coming tomorrow night shared a student house with me in third year and we went away across Europe and North Africa in a caravanette during 1974. Be nice to see him, indeed!

Light in the Dark is still on the slush pile of Chicken House. I should be hustling other stuff, but I really can't be bothered! This is not a good attitude. Fancy having a bad attitude!

Everything continues to advance on the bliss front!

Ra Sunday

10:30 a.m.
Stayed up last night till half three, but I was meditating. Having to work on Thursday threw me a wee bit, but by last night I was right on the money. The meditations seem to be particularly good in the evening and I was in on my own for most of last night. Great! Had a break and two beers at twelve then just hammered on.

This morning there was no problem getting ra bliss during yoga nidra, but when I sat up to meditate properly about eight, well, there it was .... ra beautifully still but potential laden bliss! No thoughts, no nothing. Lovely, profound place to be in first thing, I must say. I just know that this will be a great day for ra bliss!!

Ra Wagon? Where is it?

Thursday 9:14 p.m.
I always enjoy reading stuff by the sensei and reverend. Recently, I've really enjoyed articles about boxing, a kid getting lynched ... anyway, I try to read his stuff in the Bradley Weekly News every week even although I don't have the time due to the heavy drinking and falling into ra bliss. He's soon to finish a book! I want to read it.

Froggie McDuck phoned me up tonight. He says Susquehanna to himself when he's coming home from work on the bus. I say something to myself when I go to work in the morning. This morning: what bliss! So, he's just maybe saying the word and sometimes little freaky things might occur. But he's on the path. Into ra bliss! That's all he has to do. Just keep saying the word.

I'm a bit embarrassed about the word susquehanna. I got an empowerment from the great Dr Akong Tulku Rinpoche to use Om Mani Padme Hung and to do the deity yoga juju with the 1000 armed Chenrezig boy. My favourite is the other one. Om Ah Hung Vajra Guru Padma Siddhi Hung. But for ten years I used susquehanna. They said a sound. I liked that sound. The first syllable sounds like suspicious. My mother uses it when she's going to sleep at night and other times. Nephew Froggie McDuck says it to himself on the bus going home to Marseilles

I had ten seconds worth of pantheisticness with that sound so I'm not knocking it. It still fires my rockets a wee bit just thinking about it. Susquehanna. Susquehanna. Susquehanna. It's a wonderful sound. So you get on the bus and say susquehanna to yourself, and say it all the time. Any time you can remember that you're there, repeat susquehanna to yourself. You don't want to be too neurotic about it, but try to remember that the best thing to do with your mind is to focus it. That's what the sound does. I used to love that sound. It brought it right up. Get the wonderful associations with the sound and say the sound and there it is.

I'm a humanist. We are the measure of everything. But we don't have to be flatheids. We can be happy. I think the false sense of self has to be the problem (i.e. the thing creating the unpleasantness) and what we have to ask for is little, maybe very little improvements.

Look at Adolf! He's got a penis pointing out of his head, but you can't have everything!

I think I should try to cultivate Eric. He can invade places. At some point I may remove some other bliss obstuctions and have to take over the other side of the Unheard of Island. Eric, like all the unfortunate flatheids, should meditate. Pretend this is the cave site. Right? Eric logs on or whatever and I say fine, I want to meditate as well. Let's do five minutes (since you're a flatheid!) and see how it goes. |NO, I'm not taking my simmit off. That's be twenty dollars, please. Adolf! You should get onto this! Come in the summer with your bid. We could clean up. Stop working in whatever thing it is. You'd be happy being my manager. Just tell me how much. I want a flat rate to be me. £12,000 for eight hours a day. I need a bid for a santa's grotto, a few pengos, and a switch that you flick. Do you know anyone else who can do ra bliss? I'm like a star in daytime. Do you like teaching these spotty people? Come over to ra bliss. Adolf! A lot of ethnic minorities will thank me for this in future incarnations.

Friday 6:30 p.m.
I had to go to work yesterday and this is most unusual. No bliss all day. Felt ragged at night had three cans of Budvar. Dearie me. However, I didn't have to go to work this morning, so I lay in bed for a while doing yoga nidra. Getting into ra bliss in yoga nidra, which has been happening every now and again, is so good. You know you're not going to get sore and have to move. Also, it's kind of unexpected to get ra bliss without sitting up at all. I don't know what it's like to die, but if you can concentrate and you're not in pain, you must be able to bring on ra bliss. Of course, proper practictioner would be able to induce the four blisses, etc.

The reason why I'm posting is because I also got ra bliss this morning while lying on my side. I was in a going to sleep position, lying on my right side. I think that's the position the buddha died in. When will I be able to do ra bliss when I'm walking about, that's what I'd like to know.

As a sometime resident of the Unheard and McDonald Islands, I must offer my congratulations on the first medal to be won by a penguin at the Winter's Olympics. About time too!

Ra Second Day!

Wednesday 6:50 p.m.
My knee, which I pranged nearly two weeks ago, is almost okay. So I did some digging in the allotment today, having left work at noon. And set fire to the week's supply of newspapers. Cold and clear and bright, the trees stark and bare, the cold on your face as you dig a wee bit exhilerating. Came back and meditated a wee bit, wrote the book, and did the first shadow boxing session for so long, at least a fortnight. Had a bath. Back to normal. I really miss training.

Despair is interesting. Waves of depression help you empathise. I don't think I'm really the depressive type, but what must it be like if you can't raise you chin or get out of bed for days at a time? .. suffering in this life.

I think it's best to avoid the despair if possible. Milarepa, who's the first big saint in this Tibetan juju, fell into suicidal despairs about nine times, I think. Because his guru's wife helped him through one of these episodes, later on he nearly starved to death. He needed the despair. Same thing with Naropa, the boy the Six Dharmas are called after.

Sometimes I feel like one of these supertankers, which are so big they take miles and miles to turn around. It's obvioulsy better not to like the wrong things. Or being such a contradiction. I have no excuse for despairing now. I'm not drinking; I haven't got any arrangements to see any flatheids; and I'm not going to any fleshpot cities any time soon.

Very much enjoying Glenn Mullin's introduction to the Tsongkhapa's Six Yogas of Naropa. I thought I'd better start re-reading this tantric stuff since I'd made a wee bit of progress on my birthday. Raising inner heat comes first. You have to be able to draw the energies into the central channel and then be able to get the four blisses. I think from between the lines you might be going through some psuedo death process here. That's the basis of the rest of the juju.

I need to develope a very quiet lifestyle. Nae bevvying.

One of the six yogas is learning how to voluntarily exit your body at the time of death. I think it's called Powa. Paramahansa Yogananda mentions his guru and his granddaddy guru doing this. He did it as well. Does anyone remember the first buddhist monk to torch himself in Vietnam? Amazing footage. The boy didn't move at all. No rolling over. Just sat there. I think he did it.

What a nice evening I'm going to have! The flat is empty. Here comes ra bliss!! Here comes ra bliss!!

Ra Happy Valentines Day to You!

Tuesday
I'm a bit pissed off today, but happy Valentine's Day to you!! Valentine's Day, Mother's Day, Father's Day, Toe Clipping Day, I hate them all!! These things are there simply to give you grief because you will forget them one day and someone will be unhappy. The worst Valentine's Day: I got home feeling tired and crabbit as usual (tea time is not good for me normally), then after climbing the 67 stairs to my flat, I remember that I've forgotten that it was fung Valentine's Day! How I hate Valentine's Day! Back down the fung stairs to waste money on a stupid bunch of flowers and a stupid card so some capitalist basturns can laugh at what a fool you are.

For years we did nothing about Valentine's Day. But on this day I had to do something because I'd received a card. So they do something and you've got to do something! Then it's back up the fung stairs again. The Domestic Bliss is looking a bit grim. I say happy Valentine's Day with as much good grace as I can muster. Thanks for the card. Then she tells me she didn't send me the card. You can't fung win!!

I seem to always get pissed off when I go away and come back. Here's the bliss tally for the trip to Amsterdam. A glorious hour on the plane. It's a cheap flight so no one bothers you with anything. It takes about an hour and twenty minutes, but I got into ra bliss for an hour.

I like baths in hotels. The next morning I sat in the bath after I got up and sank into ra bliss for about half an hour.

On the flight back I sat in ra bliss for another hour.

It's such a shame! Last Wednesday, on my birthday no less, I got a great big sweetie from the meditations and could have banged in sixteen hours over the next two days. I'm still not back there yet.

You cannot explain ra bliss to flatheids because they simply have no understanding or experience of ra bliss. You cannot explain what it costs to go around acting like a flatheid either. The trouble with flatheids is they can't do ra bliss.

I would be better if it wasn't all my own fault! It's my lack of discipline that's at fault. No point in being fed up. Guilt is morbid. We don't do guilt if we can help it. I'll just have to give everything up again and be happy.

Let's see if we can make this day one!

11:25 p.m.
Weird teeth clenching waves of depression today. Didn't like that. Not quite my usual style. But tonight was great. Watching the telly and reading the introduction to the Book of the Three Inspirations. This was to get me reading again. Hardly a novel. A book big in the juju. Anyway, also lots of wallowing around in ra bliss. I'd like to get used to quiet evenings just wallowing around in ra bliss. Might as well. Thank god for ra bliss!

Ra Happy Birthday to Me!

Wednesday 1:15 p.m.
I'm fifty five years old today. This blog is exactly one year old. In this time it has been visited by 4050 Masai Warriors, Martians, perverts and one or two buddhists maybe. The webpage it was set up to track has taken 457 hits in the same time. I wasn't expecting the webpage to have anything like that number of hits when I set it up, and Brian Wilson advised me to get the blog up to attract hits to the page, and that might have worked.

The books I have least trouble with on the page are the kidbooks. I know those two books are good because of the number of kids who responded well to them. The adult book I like the best is The Real McCoy. It has a radio play embedded in the dialogue and I made some money from that before I turned it into a novel. Also, I was very happy when I was writing it. Both of us were at home with the baby for six months after she was born and the book was written then. This was really my chance at writing full time, the first since I was thirty years old and on the dole for a year.

Of course, I haven't got a literary agent! Neither have I emanated as a deity, but I've got a better chance of that than the former. This is because that's something that's up to me.

The first time I was in Amsterdam was in 1974. Great place. I stole the shape for a book I actually had published, called City Whitelight. The place in the middle of the city is called Centrum, a straight lift from Amsterdam. Who says travel doesn't broaden the mind?

I sent Beef McDuck the first three or four chapters of the current book, and he said it was "quite amusing", but today he asked if I'd any more, so it might not be bad.

I'm 55, but I have access to ra bliss! I HAVE ACCESS TO RA BLISS! What a thing to be able to say! Anyone reading this can ask themselves a simple question: Do you get ra bliss or are you on your way to getting ra bliss? Aren't there enough flatheids going around?

Must say I'm quite happy just now. I think I'll go and sit in my hut!

10:35 p.m.
I closed my eyes in the hut. Just more or less gone for an hour an a half. Wrong time of the day as usual, about two o clock. Didn't matter. At some point I wondered what was different. I did a vase breath. That was it. Something had gone. An obstructiveness. Now we were getting straight on through to the other side. I was a bit dazed again, and once or twice since. With the something gone, you get something else after the breath. Something else added to ra bliss. What a birthday present!!!!

The vajrayana is a great adventure. You just don't know what might be round the corner.

0:41 a.m.
I was not clear enough about what a red letter day this was for ra bliss. I cannot express ra bliss so I hang my head and think I can't tell you what ra bliss is like in its new developments because I am not very good at descriptions. But today, my birthday, was a red letter day for ra bliss.

Yesterday I sent a letter to Teresa, a nun at the Samye Ling, who is one of my gurus. So I sat in the hut and fell into ra bliss! There is a connection with the juice. I'm the most sceptical, but it seems to work. It's an admission. I admit that the nun connected with me and helped me with the juice today. Or something like that. How weird! If I die on the plane tomorrow going to Amsterdam, I have to say that I have no complaints. Come on, the angels! Come on, the chariots of fire!

I sat in a hut today and I was very, very happy. I lost it. At one time I thought it was good to have a wee nose because if you stopped breathing, maybe the breathing was keeping your nose warm, and if you stopped breathing your nose, sticking out, should freeze off. But it didn't. That's anxiety. Shame you don't meditate, Jack. All the sore bits have gone, Jack. All the doubts you had. All the anxieties you felt. All the evil bourgeois saying it was easier some other way, Jack. I'm fifty five, Jack. And I've got ra bliss. I've got ra bliss!!!!!

Rat Reality Check!

Tuesday
From the previous post. So in the chip shop you slowly turn and there stands Rourkey as a werewolf.

Does the werewolf exist or not? It seemed to be there alright, but I knew it was really Rourkey. Otherwise, I suppose I might have fainted. But the werewolf did have a kind of existence. As an illusion.

That must be how deity yoga eventually works. You look round slowly and there it is: Dorje Sempa, a bit of a buddha. I guess that's how it's supposed to work with the symbols at various parts of your body. You look for it in your navel and there it is. But it wouldn't stay there forever surely. If you didn't continually reinforce it, it would fade, you'd think. Anyway, seeing Dorje Sempa in front of you shouldn't be all that different from seeing Rourkey as a werewolf.

You might not have weak acid to work with, but funny things do happen when your mind gets really calm, like after a couple of days without the telly, in a room, with nothing else to do but meditate.

Thinking of Bratisanni's, I had a few tricky moments trying to order stuff from the counter in there. Once when we were doing acid at Shiva's place, I agreed to leave the flat and go for the messages. Everybody wants something and I'm tripping out my face, but what are we if not memory? So I'm in the queue at the counter and I'm rather nervously going over the rather long order. Just don't forget anything. Remember to say cigarette papers and not skins and we can be in, out, and away scotfree in a jiffy. But I'm constantly going over the order in my head then the guy in front steps away and I'm looking at the lassie.

How to make someone's day. The lassie in the overall looks really quite pissed off. She gives me a perfunctory "Wha...?"
In a rush: "Can Ah have ten Silk Cut, twenty No6, forty Regal, ten Benson an' Hedges, a box of matches, two packets of cheese and onion crisps, a packet of Tunes, and a packet of cigarette papers, please." I'm feeling a bit chuffed about getting the cigarette paper bit right as I look at her and she suddenly explodes in laughter."
"Wha..? Ha, ha, ha, ha! You want what?"
I'm not too sure what that's about, so I gamely start the order again. "Can Ah have ten Silk Cut , twenty No6 ...."
"Naw, slow up! Slow up," she says, highly amused.


That works better if you've dropped acid at least once. My pal Flatnose O'Rourke didn't do it twice. Maybe all that talk about werewolves ...

I ripped off this deity yoga stuff and used it in Light in the Dark, which is on my webpage of course.

LSD is of course very dangerous and certainly should not be given to anyone who's had to endure the heavy duty Calvinist toilet training meted out by the evil bourgeois. That rules out both Brian and Adolf, but my friend Poisonous looks as though he must have been forced to goosestep about with a potty on his head practically since he was able to stand and acid never did him any harm ... apart from the twitch of course.

Ranother Acid Test

Saturday 5 p.m.
When I was in second year at uni, I shared a bedsit in a family flat on the corner of Grange Road and Buccleuch Street, I think it is, with my old school friend Flatnose O'Rourke. I'd been taking acid sometimes since about October/November of the previous year and Rourkey fancied a shot of it around the beginning of the summertime. I got us a tab and halved it.

The acid wasn't that strong, but very nice. The bedsit had a window from which you could see out to Arthur's Seat over the rooftops. We were on the third or fourth floor, and we sat there for a bit, looking out the window and listening to Chopin's La Sylphides (I think it was called). Very nice memory of that.

Since the acid wasn't that strong, I started trying to work with it. Rourkey had a black beard and long black hair. I stared at his face and tried to make the beard grow over it. This worked. His face became covered in black hair and with the long hair on his head, well, he smiled at one point and really did look like a werewolf. This, of course, on the acid was highly amusing. He wasn't a scary kind of werewolf. Everything else was more or less normal as far as the hallucinations were concerned.

The problem was that I couldn't get the hair to shrink from his brow and cheeks!

We had to go out to Brattisani's, the chip shop in Newington, as you always have to do, to get fags, skins, and that kind of thing. So I'm walking along Grange Road and everything is more or less under control apart from the trees which we pass, which are really quite alive. Anyway, I look around at Rourkey and he's still a werewolf. Might be a bit tricky taking a werewolf into a chip shop. Ordering the fags in there was always a problem anyway.

The great thing about joe public is the last thing they want is to admit you're completely out of your tree. But they have no idea. They'll usually pretend you're normal if you can give them the chance and will not shout and bawl and throw you out the chip shop just because you're a paranoid wreck. So you tell Rourkey to say nothing and you'll handle all the talking to straights stuff. Just keep it together and say the order. No bother. The words all seem to come out right and the lassie starts to get your stuff. Then you slowly look round at Rourkey and fung sake he's still a werewolf! Then you're pretending to be normal with this huge grin on your face. You're hoping the lassie doesn't point at your hairy pal because you don't know if he can handle it or not. But no. How polite! You escape.

When the acid wears off, it might seem that you have returned to reality... maybe nobody remembers what that was. The acid. If you haven;t done it, you can't imagine. Totally dangerous stuff. You are asking for it if ... anyway, the footie is coming on.
The window to my left looks along Comely Bank Road. A big line of leafless trees, branches intermeshing against a sky which is blue and pink and growing dark. It's about twenty past five, time to go into the lobby for a bit of a meditate!

10 p.m.
For a while at least I think I may change the nature of this blog. I'm obviously not going to get a literary agent, so I should really stop tormenting them. As a hobby it's quite good fun. And what can you say about ra bliss? Except you poor stupid basturns!

So I'll lay off the flatheids, write about my youth in this carefree bloggy manner as a break from writing the book, and meditating, and standing on the head, and .... what do you think, Jack?

Ra Later On!

Saturday Morning 2 a.m.
After five bottles of budvar and watching The Cream Reunion concert.

I'm going to change this blog. Maybe. Discipline.

I'd like to dedicate all the merit I got from doing the juju today to the people who've supported this blog. I think it's been going for about a year. If you wanted to believe in the Mahayana, we've all been our brothers and sisters and mothers and fathers, interchangeablely throughout endless time, back to the dirt, back to some time when such things arose from the big bang. So it's not mine. It's not yours. It's ours.

I won't be able to put in the links, so forgive me for that.

Lee Ann arrived out of the blue. I cannot remember really when or why. But so kind. Lee Ann is also young. Do the juju, Lee Ann. Don't become fifty without ra bliss. Of you were my brother, and sister, and lover, and mother before then you should meditate now. Maybe sometime you will be old and have no bucks, but you can laugh at all that, if you can put your mind into ra bliss. This is obviously true.

Samsaramon will get ra bliss someday. If you try and you do, that's all you need.

Adolf will never get any of ra bliss because he doesn't and will not ever meditate, but after all that stuff about the Second World War, he's doing well to have survivied so long. Right between us and better than either is Daso, who died from smoking fags at 38, a cruel blow. I wish I could give Daso ra bliss, but he died before I knew anything about that. Maybe Daso stands in front of me as a kid at school and I hope I'm nicer to him now.

The sensei and reverend is my brother in arms. I cannot say enough good things about that man. When I make some money I will go and see him and run about drunk in the woods of Tennessee doing my Jeepers Kreepers impersonation.

Brian Wilson .... I will always remember the day we drank during the Festival. The rickshaw ride. The staring up at the sky in the High Street. What larks! What a great day that was! What fortunate creatures we are!

I will have missed some people, but these are the folk who leave messages.

I think I'll stop writing this like a diary. I'll stop saying stuff about how good ra bliss is. It's not helping. Next post will be about doing acid and turning my deep dear friend Tony into a werewolf!

Got stunned by ra bliss today. Got stunned by ra bliss. Once again. Stand there waving your flags and wanting to kill some poor ignorant bastarns who are just as stupid, thick, ignorant as yourself. This is RaBlissBlog! Believe nothing. Believe in your profound ignorance and get into ra bliss!!

Saturday morning 10:25 a.m.
The Domestic Bliss has upped and gone and won't be back till tomorrow evening. Feeling slightly slumped from the beers last night, but fine really. The winter's day outside if very nice, cold and clear. God knows what the rest of the day will bring! Positive, repeated stunnings, I should imagine. Here comes the first meditation of the day!

Ra Best!

Friday 9:16 p.m.
I had the best meditation of my life tonight. That's what I said to the Domestic Bliss when she came through the door from her work and found me, as usual, sitting meditating in the lobby. When you get a real blast of what this juju may one day be like, you tend to feel a bit stunned.

I felt awful when I wakened up this morning. Like, in a cloud of mugginess. This is unusual. I have to put this down to the weather or the lack of drink and drugs this week. But I never waken up like that usually. And the meditations on the train to and from Bellshill were good, better than usual maybe, but nothing to write home about.

Walking home from Haymarket and down the Queensferry Road, the violent images were back and very vivid, though I must say they weren't making my uptight like they might have done before. This is kind of horrorshow stuff. Random baseball battings, etc. I believe some people do not get this. Maybe a symptom of tiredness and irritation.

There maybe a theory that if you think it, you can do it, but I've never hit anyone since I was a kid when they weren't standing in front of me in a boxing ring. Doesn't mean I wouldn't like to sometimes.

Trying to put that stuff away and feeling a bit unsettled, I sat down in the lobby.

A pathway seems to have opened up. After the vase breath. The expansion and the bliss ... I can't adequately describe it. I wish I could give it to you, but I can't. You're going to have to get it for yourself, I'm afraid.

I'm away to the off-licence and for the first time since last Saturday, well, boy am I going to get a load on tonight!!!

Ra Kopan Monastery

10:08 p.m.
Sober and straight! Last night I was lying in bed in the corpse pose, doing yoga nidra with a big grin on my face. Such bliss! I sat up and don't know how long I did that for. Was up at seven, but I'm tired now.

After meditating in the lobby all morning (I'm so used to that now on a Thursday morning since I've been part time for a year and a half!), I went up to the allotment for some time sitting in the hut. Then I walked out the gate of the allotments and crossed Inverleith Park , over the road and into the Botanic Gardens. Everybody should live in Stockbridge.

I was going to have a coffee there and start re-reading Glenn Mullin's translation of Tsongkhapa's Six Yoga's of Naropa, which is the juju I'm practising. In the introduction Mr Mullin goes on about how he translated this tantric stuff, etc.. Kopan Monastery in Khatmandu is mentioned several times.

Me and Shiva visited Kopan Monastery about a decade ago. There was an old monk in the cafe wearing black robes. I don't know what it means to be wearing black robes. He was very old and bent, with a stick, but you can tell when some cats got it and some cats aint. He asked me to stay in the monastery. I told him I'd come back when we got back from Darjeeling. I didn't go back.

I've regretted that ever since. Both the not going back and not staying in the first place.

Some people are just totally, effortlessly impressive.

There was a wee memorial garden at Kopan Monastery to Lama Thebten Yeshe, who is the author of The Bliss of Inner Fire, a book that changed my life. I mentioned Lama Yeshe to some people, meaning my (now) guru from the Samye Ling, but everyone had heard of the other one. I remember vividly looking at the wee stupa and wondering who this Lama Yeshe could be.

All this was flooding back as I read the introduction lying very comfortably on a park bench in front of the big house at the Botties.

I was on the other computer, the new one in the living room, before I came to this older one here. I looked up Kopan Monastery on google and tried to send them an email asking who the monk might be and what it meant to have a black robe. This was really the first thing I'd tried to do all day. So it can't send the message, which took a wee while to write, because it doesn't know who the outside server is or something. I mean, come on! How am I supposed to know that? Do the geeks who design this stuff think everyone's ambition is to be some kind of tv mechanic? Only bad vibe of a very good day. I was trying to have an hour off before the Domestic Bliss came home. I should have stayed meditating in the lobby!

Tomorrow I go to Bellshill to see my maw and my auntie Kathy. It takes an hour and twenty minutes on the train. I usually close my eyes and meditate for at least an hour of it. Tomorrow this journey will be wonderful and amazing. I expect ( y0u shouldn't expect anything!) to fall into a deep, profound bliss. Yes, I do!

My sore knee is healing quickly. I can sit easily in a half lotus with some support. After meditating for about three hours this morning, I went through the 1o8 moves of my tai chi set. Boy! Feel the force! Feel the force, Hotboy!!

Ra Here We Go!

Wednesday 10 p.m.
Sober and straight. Tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow. You could hardly stop it today, even if you wanted to. I've said it before, but I'll say it again ... ra bliss seemed better today. Hello, ra heat! Who knows where we'll be come Monday?

Bush just came on the telly. State of the Union. He's gone green! Then the newscaster says he hasn't gone green. Thank god for that! It was looking as if my personal central heating system would be in place just in time for the Gulf Stream to shut off. Then Scotland would be like Moscow or Inqaluit, near Forbisher Bay where Eric (samsaramon's man) might be protecting the family jewels from frostbite while wishing he had something better to read!

If I close my eyes just now ... you see the expansion and feel the bliss coming on. Then it starts to get warm!!

Watching the footie on the telly before doing this. Sitting there on the floor (they way I always do!) and feeling the lovely stuff moving arond inside and pushing deliciously here and there at the edges of the envelope.

Chasing after agents was something to do. Go through the motions. Going part time at work and the kid going to Art School, and I had (have?) to make the effort to contribute. I would like to get some money for the Samye Ling as well, but my brother was right when a long time ago he said he could make more money selling goat's milk (he had two!) than I'd ever make by writing. But that doesn't matter. I suppose I'll have to hustle something, but I don't care. What more could I ask for out of this life, this wonderful life which I have led?

I got books published, plays produced. I got to be the primary carer of my very excellent daughter. And I have a guru who I am convinced is a total master of the juju. If I go the black spot right now ... it would be nice to be of some use before I kick the bucket, but in terms of the shape my life has taken I have no complaints at all! And the best may well be in front of me. How many joes can say that the week before their fifty fifth birthday.

I will continue to write this current book at my own pace. I'm going to try and not rush, or even push it too hard. The sensei and reverend said after I complained about The Buddha and the Big Bad Wolf being dead in the water after Element Books, who wanted to publish it, rolled over and rather unexpectedly died that I should bear witness. So I should. Whether it gets published or not doesn't matter. I can stick it on my webpage. Maybe I could stick bits on my blog! I'll go and find the prologue. Back in a tick!

PROLOGUE

If God dealt drugs, the hit he would give himself would be the one called bliss. The bliss is the best of feelings. If you can think of a feeling better than bliss, you might as well call that feeling bliss.
I know about bliss and this book will tell you about bliss, and where to find it. Being a novel, it doesn't matter if you believe the story, just follow it along. There will be disembowellings and murders right from the start, but remember the stuff about the bliss is the true stuff. The rest, describing some of the awfulness indubitably taking place in a bog standard secondary school near you, is just a way to keep you reading about the bliss..
So here it starts with Badger Barbossa, hereafter referred to as Fatboy ...going to meet his doom ....

Of course, it might not read quite like that after another fourteen re-writes in longhand whilst staying in a small English seaside town, but you get the drift maybe. I've probably got a better chance of winning the lottery than getting it published, but who gives a fung for I am now for sure one of creation's most fortunate creatures, a HotboyMadyamikaSurfingTheOceansOfBliss!