Ra Coalescence!
Saturday 11:01 p.m.
I got into a half decent lotus. There are lotuses and there are lotuses. The picture Mingin took of me in the hut was me trying to do a lotus when I'm not used to it anymore. It might be important to be able to sit in a proper position.
The Dalai Lama says you should start in a lotus anyway because then it is easier for the airs to enter the central channel. Are we talking metaphors here? Well, you do something and something happens. My knee is almost cured.
A lot of my time in the evening has been spent exhausted and sometimes a bit crabbit due to the amount of physical jerks I do. There is something about running if you're fit for it. The metronome pace. The rhythm. It takes an effort to keep running, but some of the best times I've had, the exhilirating times have been spent running. I think I'll be able to run again soon. This is a boon and a delight. When I was a kid, no old guys like me ran anywhere.
I will be on holiday next week for six weeks. My wonderful child, the kiddo, will be here in July. I hope she doesn't get a job. I want to spend a lot of time in the hut. In the best of possible worlds, I might be able to sit there for one week of this time. And maybe my wonderful daughter could come and see me, and I could tell her all about ra bliss. Because although I am responsible for my maw (numero uno), and I am responsible for the Domestic Bliss (we are the author's of our own fate), the kiddo wouldn't be here if it wasn't for me. So I have to tell her about ra bliss, and make it sound natural to pursue this in this the realm of the flatheided.
The Domestic Bliss thinks she may live another twenty years. I tell her I'm already three years overdue. Tempis fugit. But she is far nicer and far calmer than I will ever be. But she doesn't meditate much. She meditated yesterday though. Some people don't want to try hard and they want life to be nice. I wish it was.
My maw does meditate a bit. She does. She wants to understand the tapes I've bought her. You have to understand emptiness to be happy and she is far happier now than she would have been if she had not had me. And I am so fortunate that I have a mother like that and a daughter like that. I'm the mad joe in the middle, but I can do ra bliss, and both these josephines know that I am not telling them lies, and know that I am not a good example as well. But I am some kind of example.
I haven't written anything of my book since I stopped work on Wednesday. I have one chapter left to write. It's not an editing of the first draft. It's the last chapter from here and now. This is a culmination, this whole writing thing with this book. It's a satirical look at education for the working class in Scotland, but I might call it MY NEW BOOK because there are true accounts of ra bliss, where to find it, how to do it, and how not to worry about being holy. The holy is PR. It's bullshit. You do it, you get ra bliss. That's the beginning and the end of it. You can be holy if you like. Even if you can go breathless instantly and levitate, I'm not interested in your holiness. I'm interested in your technique. This is the experiential mysticism blog.
Of course, the book won't get published. How ridiculous to even think it would. You can't ask these whoever they are to validate your life. Ars Longa Vita Brevis. The best of the human beings have always tried. You try to be creative.
St Teresa didn't have an agent, but I read her book. Actually, I've read two of her books. I think I've got one left to read. I'm not a saint like St Teresa. I may not get into the last room ... of course, I will!
This summer will be a culmination, a coalescence. Then, of course, I'll have to culminate and coalesce all over again!
I got into a half decent lotus. There are lotuses and there are lotuses. The picture Mingin took of me in the hut was me trying to do a lotus when I'm not used to it anymore. It might be important to be able to sit in a proper position.
The Dalai Lama says you should start in a lotus anyway because then it is easier for the airs to enter the central channel. Are we talking metaphors here? Well, you do something and something happens. My knee is almost cured.
A lot of my time in the evening has been spent exhausted and sometimes a bit crabbit due to the amount of physical jerks I do. There is something about running if you're fit for it. The metronome pace. The rhythm. It takes an effort to keep running, but some of the best times I've had, the exhilirating times have been spent running. I think I'll be able to run again soon. This is a boon and a delight. When I was a kid, no old guys like me ran anywhere.
I will be on holiday next week for six weeks. My wonderful child, the kiddo, will be here in July. I hope she doesn't get a job. I want to spend a lot of time in the hut. In the best of possible worlds, I might be able to sit there for one week of this time. And maybe my wonderful daughter could come and see me, and I could tell her all about ra bliss. Because although I am responsible for my maw (numero uno), and I am responsible for the Domestic Bliss (we are the author's of our own fate), the kiddo wouldn't be here if it wasn't for me. So I have to tell her about ra bliss, and make it sound natural to pursue this in this the realm of the flatheided.
The Domestic Bliss thinks she may live another twenty years. I tell her I'm already three years overdue. Tempis fugit. But she is far nicer and far calmer than I will ever be. But she doesn't meditate much. She meditated yesterday though. Some people don't want to try hard and they want life to be nice. I wish it was.
My maw does meditate a bit. She does. She wants to understand the tapes I've bought her. You have to understand emptiness to be happy and she is far happier now than she would have been if she had not had me. And I am so fortunate that I have a mother like that and a daughter like that. I'm the mad joe in the middle, but I can do ra bliss, and both these josephines know that I am not telling them lies, and know that I am not a good example as well. But I am some kind of example.
I haven't written anything of my book since I stopped work on Wednesday. I have one chapter left to write. It's not an editing of the first draft. It's the last chapter from here and now. This is a culmination, this whole writing thing with this book. It's a satirical look at education for the working class in Scotland, but I might call it MY NEW BOOK because there are true accounts of ra bliss, where to find it, how to do it, and how not to worry about being holy. The holy is PR. It's bullshit. You do it, you get ra bliss. That's the beginning and the end of it. You can be holy if you like. Even if you can go breathless instantly and levitate, I'm not interested in your holiness. I'm interested in your technique. This is the experiential mysticism blog.
Of course, the book won't get published. How ridiculous to even think it would. You can't ask these whoever they are to validate your life. Ars Longa Vita Brevis. The best of the human beings have always tried. You try to be creative.
St Teresa didn't have an agent, but I read her book. Actually, I've read two of her books. I think I've got one left to read. I'm not a saint like St Teresa. I may not get into the last room ... of course, I will!
This summer will be a culmination, a coalescence. Then, of course, I'll have to culminate and coalesce all over again!
1 Comments:
This post made perfect sense to me. Is this progress, and if so whose?
I believe that for some people, trying hard and wanting life to be nice, actually makes it nice. It works for me, but the Somaloft may be helping. Does that help?
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