Rat 1966!
Friday 4:47 p.m.
Just before the Dutch Ivory Coast game and just back from Bellshill. They've just put on this little programme about how England won the World Cup in 1966. Isn't that sweet?
The sensei and reverend is 4o tomorrow so he must have been born in 1966. How's that for a coincidence! Many happy returns to the sensei from RaBlissBlog. He will surely be a floater by the time he's my age. When I was forty, I could sit in a lotus for twenty minutes tops. Last night I came upon the sensei's blog and found this hilarious treatment of the photie with the eyeballs rolled up on it. It did make me laugh. Here's to a happy and sober weekend!
Sunday morning... 1:51 a.m.
I was sitting up in my bed meditating there, but I kind of bottled it a wee bit. It's nearly two. Just poured myself a beer, the first one.
Lee Ann sometimes looks at this blog. She will not know what "bottling" it means. Lee Ann, "bottling it" indicates a loss of courage. Keeping a hold of your bottle means you feel the fear but march towards the the sound of gunfire.
Jack The Spam Robot sometimes comes to this blog and so do some Masai Warriors. Hello, also the the joes looking for hotboys. Well, you might be a fortunate creature tonight to have found a joe like me! For this is RaBlissBlog and I'm going to write about further developments in ra bliss!
So I'm lying down on the couch in the living room. I usually sit on the floor in a half lotus, but it's either carousing or meditating around here just now and I was feeling a bit fashed and bashed (what a good writer Anthony Burgess was! I bet all the Enderby books are out of print!). Anyway, I was watching the footie from the couch and realised that the vase breathing thing was working. This is lying down. Already we've had tastes of ra bliss lying down and ra bliss lying on the side. This is ra heat a bit and ra bliss while watching the footie. Is this meditating? I don't think so. The kundalini (if that is what it is) thing is kind of separate from that.
Anyway, no carousing tonight. I was going to try to be good. I'm tired, but I don't have to keep to a schedule and I sat up to meditate because I haven't done all that much today.
Something has opened up. We're sitting up in bed and we're getting hot here, Jack. We do a vase breath and there has been a qualitative shift again with ra bliss.
I'm one of the badboy brothers from Kham. We can meditate our socks off, but we can also don our viking helmets and carouse in an empty room. So our minds are sometimes not so calm. And when it is apparent that all we have to do is do nothing and give up everything and ra bliss and ra heat will be truly, truly astonishing, well, we realise the enormity of what this juju is about, and we think ... I'm going to lose my bottle here.
Have I got a tiger by the tail? You bet!
What I have to do just now is re-inforce my confidence in my root guru, the Great Buddha, Lama Yeshe Losal. He has done twelve years of proper retreats and is undoubtedly a juju master.
I can't do any of these meditations properly. I'm opening up something and let's hope I can close it. This is what happens ... I've got six weeks holiday coming up. I go into the hut. I do not crash and burn. I come out of the hut and go to see my doctor. I tell him I cannot go to work anymore because of the euphoria, and I get a year off work to sit in my hut and do deity yoga. Meanwhile, my new blockbuster get published and I get enough of an income to help the Domestic Bliss give up work, and then I just stay in the hut for most of the day and someone else volunteers to take care of everything else and manages me so that I can get on with the Pet Bereavement Counselling Service, which is about the best good I can do.
On the third pint of the last of the barrel. 2:55 a.m.
I have a false sense of self. It shows up in the ideations. It might be another name for anxiety. You have to take the anxiety away from the thought. The thought might be complex. Is there any anxiety in the view, Jack? If you weren't anxious, you wouldn't lose your bottle. You'd just hit it and hit it again, wouldn't you, Jack. Shoot the breath. Do ra bliss.
There's a green dot on this machine. If you had a watch, you could put it under it and you could kind of look at the green dot and the watch at the same time. Or you could look at the green dot and be aware of the watch. If you could let a minute pass like that, well, that's the way to ra bliss!
I get a lot of support. I am not an individual. I am not separate. I am not alone. Surely, there is only one thing. 3:18 a.m and the blackbirds have started giving it laldy! Ra bliss is a kindness. It is a loving kindness. Or it seems to be! Goodnight from RaBlissBlog!
Just before the Dutch Ivory Coast game and just back from Bellshill. They've just put on this little programme about how England won the World Cup in 1966. Isn't that sweet?
The sensei and reverend is 4o tomorrow so he must have been born in 1966. How's that for a coincidence! Many happy returns to the sensei from RaBlissBlog. He will surely be a floater by the time he's my age. When I was forty, I could sit in a lotus for twenty minutes tops. Last night I came upon the sensei's blog and found this hilarious treatment of the photie with the eyeballs rolled up on it. It did make me laugh. Here's to a happy and sober weekend!
Sunday morning... 1:51 a.m.
I was sitting up in my bed meditating there, but I kind of bottled it a wee bit. It's nearly two. Just poured myself a beer, the first one.
Lee Ann sometimes looks at this blog. She will not know what "bottling" it means. Lee Ann, "bottling it" indicates a loss of courage. Keeping a hold of your bottle means you feel the fear but march towards the the sound of gunfire.
Jack The Spam Robot sometimes comes to this blog and so do some Masai Warriors. Hello, also the the joes looking for hotboys. Well, you might be a fortunate creature tonight to have found a joe like me! For this is RaBlissBlog and I'm going to write about further developments in ra bliss!
So I'm lying down on the couch in the living room. I usually sit on the floor in a half lotus, but it's either carousing or meditating around here just now and I was feeling a bit fashed and bashed (what a good writer Anthony Burgess was! I bet all the Enderby books are out of print!). Anyway, I was watching the footie from the couch and realised that the vase breathing thing was working. This is lying down. Already we've had tastes of ra bliss lying down and ra bliss lying on the side. This is ra heat a bit and ra bliss while watching the footie. Is this meditating? I don't think so. The kundalini (if that is what it is) thing is kind of separate from that.
Anyway, no carousing tonight. I was going to try to be good. I'm tired, but I don't have to keep to a schedule and I sat up to meditate because I haven't done all that much today.
Something has opened up. We're sitting up in bed and we're getting hot here, Jack. We do a vase breath and there has been a qualitative shift again with ra bliss.
I'm one of the badboy brothers from Kham. We can meditate our socks off, but we can also don our viking helmets and carouse in an empty room. So our minds are sometimes not so calm. And when it is apparent that all we have to do is do nothing and give up everything and ra bliss and ra heat will be truly, truly astonishing, well, we realise the enormity of what this juju is about, and we think ... I'm going to lose my bottle here.
Have I got a tiger by the tail? You bet!
What I have to do just now is re-inforce my confidence in my root guru, the Great Buddha, Lama Yeshe Losal. He has done twelve years of proper retreats and is undoubtedly a juju master.
I can't do any of these meditations properly. I'm opening up something and let's hope I can close it. This is what happens ... I've got six weeks holiday coming up. I go into the hut. I do not crash and burn. I come out of the hut and go to see my doctor. I tell him I cannot go to work anymore because of the euphoria, and I get a year off work to sit in my hut and do deity yoga. Meanwhile, my new blockbuster get published and I get enough of an income to help the Domestic Bliss give up work, and then I just stay in the hut for most of the day and someone else volunteers to take care of everything else and manages me so that I can get on with the Pet Bereavement Counselling Service, which is about the best good I can do.
On the third pint of the last of the barrel. 2:55 a.m.
I have a false sense of self. It shows up in the ideations. It might be another name for anxiety. You have to take the anxiety away from the thought. The thought might be complex. Is there any anxiety in the view, Jack? If you weren't anxious, you wouldn't lose your bottle. You'd just hit it and hit it again, wouldn't you, Jack. Shoot the breath. Do ra bliss.
There's a green dot on this machine. If you had a watch, you could put it under it and you could kind of look at the green dot and the watch at the same time. Or you could look at the green dot and be aware of the watch. If you could let a minute pass like that, well, that's the way to ra bliss!
I get a lot of support. I am not an individual. I am not separate. I am not alone. Surely, there is only one thing. 3:18 a.m and the blackbirds have started giving it laldy! Ra bliss is a kindness. It is a loving kindness. Or it seems to be! Goodnight from RaBlissBlog!
posted by Hotboy at 4:52 PM
3 Comments:
Did you close it? My mother likes a man to close it when he's finished. I'm told it helps.
I bottled it myself today. The dog was set upon by an alsation. As I saw it coming, I picked up a stick so I could join in. But when it came to it, the other dog looked so scary and the melee was so fast, that I was paralysed.
Fortunately, my dog didn't need my help, and saw the other one off. She's a real bitch when it counts. And she's not the only one. A bonding experience, anyway.
I see you've got about 3 new posts. I'm a bit behind, what with the footie and the HNT fallout, but I'll read them tomorrow. Right now I need to set the alarm for 2 a.m., for the Brazil game.
You are right, I would not have known what bottling it means!
Thanks you very much Hotboy.
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