Ra Happy Birthday!
Monday
The kiddo is nineteen today. Nineteen years ago I was a witness at her birth and vowed that I'd never been in one of those places again! I have complete sympathy with the joe who said he'd be present at his child's birth if it was in a very long room with a bar at one end. This new man stuff can be taken too far! Put you off sex for life, so it would! The sooner they can grow kids in a bag in a factory the better!
I got her some books, mainly from the Shelter bookshop downstairs. Meditation for Dummies, The Tao Te Ching, An Alan Watts book about Zen, Initiates and Magicians in Tibet by Alexandra David-Neel and The Scots Quair by Lewis Grassic Gibbon. I haven't enjoyed many books more than Sunset Song, which is part of the Grassic Gibbon trilogy of course. God, I still haven't finished the Kite Runner! How other people (used to be me!) can find the time to loaf about reading novels is beyond me!
I'm always going on about flatheids in this blog. But you can't really call folk who meditate flatheids. For, yea, they will become blissheids if they just stick with it! I know quite a few potential blissheids, some of whom come to this blog. Though I did encounter some pretty weird sensations early on when I started meditating, I don't think I got much of the white light bliss precursor till I was in my early forties. It was when I started getting up early to meditate and give up the tobacco. I think it was three times a day, half an hour each time.
I cycled round to see Shiva on Saturday. He still smokes like a lum. Shakti, his wife, doesn't smoke, or drink, or do any bad things that I know of. They're hatha yogins really. And they do meditate a bit anyway, these days. The sensei and reverend meditates. Samsaramom meditates. Apart from Shiva, these people are all much younger than me and are bound to get ra bliss someway down the track. So should he if he does enough meditating. Sandy Buchandyke, Adolf and Menzies Milngavie, of course, will not get ra bliss because they don't meditate. I don't know if Ionetics meditates or not. Simple cause and effect is in operation here. Don't meditate and stay a flatheid. Dearie me! Fancy choosing to stay a flatheid. I was blissed out my face at six o clock this morning. Fancy choosing to stay a flatheid! Dearie, dearie me!
We took the kiddo to see the Devil Wears Prada last night. Worth it for Meryl Streep. When I got back, I found a very pleasant, chatty email from an agent called Adrian Weston. He'd looked at the webpage and this blog. Even after that, he emailed me. I think he liked the post about what not to do to become a famous writer. He was published by Serpent's Tail on the same year as the sensei and reverend. Maybe I could get him to look at the sensei's new book if this Euan Thorneycroft liaison doen't work out.
Anyway, I had to write the boy an email about my wonderful writings so he wouldn't have to look at stuff on the webpage which isn't really as publishable. I've written a lot of stuff. Mostly to no avail, as they say, but a lot of stuff. Mostly these days I just sit there quietly doing nothing. But here comes the heat! Here comes the heat!
The kiddo is nineteen today. Nineteen years ago I was a witness at her birth and vowed that I'd never been in one of those places again! I have complete sympathy with the joe who said he'd be present at his child's birth if it was in a very long room with a bar at one end. This new man stuff can be taken too far! Put you off sex for life, so it would! The sooner they can grow kids in a bag in a factory the better!
I got her some books, mainly from the Shelter bookshop downstairs. Meditation for Dummies, The Tao Te Ching, An Alan Watts book about Zen, Initiates and Magicians in Tibet by Alexandra David-Neel and The Scots Quair by Lewis Grassic Gibbon. I haven't enjoyed many books more than Sunset Song, which is part of the Grassic Gibbon trilogy of course. God, I still haven't finished the Kite Runner! How other people (used to be me!) can find the time to loaf about reading novels is beyond me!
I'm always going on about flatheids in this blog. But you can't really call folk who meditate flatheids. For, yea, they will become blissheids if they just stick with it! I know quite a few potential blissheids, some of whom come to this blog. Though I did encounter some pretty weird sensations early on when I started meditating, I don't think I got much of the white light bliss precursor till I was in my early forties. It was when I started getting up early to meditate and give up the tobacco. I think it was three times a day, half an hour each time.
I cycled round to see Shiva on Saturday. He still smokes like a lum. Shakti, his wife, doesn't smoke, or drink, or do any bad things that I know of. They're hatha yogins really. And they do meditate a bit anyway, these days. The sensei and reverend meditates. Samsaramom meditates. Apart from Shiva, these people are all much younger than me and are bound to get ra bliss someway down the track. So should he if he does enough meditating. Sandy Buchandyke, Adolf and Menzies Milngavie, of course, will not get ra bliss because they don't meditate. I don't know if Ionetics meditates or not. Simple cause and effect is in operation here. Don't meditate and stay a flatheid. Dearie me! Fancy choosing to stay a flatheid. I was blissed out my face at six o clock this morning. Fancy choosing to stay a flatheid! Dearie, dearie me!
We took the kiddo to see the Devil Wears Prada last night. Worth it for Meryl Streep. When I got back, I found a very pleasant, chatty email from an agent called Adrian Weston. He'd looked at the webpage and this blog. Even after that, he emailed me. I think he liked the post about what not to do to become a famous writer. He was published by Serpent's Tail on the same year as the sensei and reverend. Maybe I could get him to look at the sensei's new book if this Euan Thorneycroft liaison doen't work out.
Anyway, I had to write the boy an email about my wonderful writings so he wouldn't have to look at stuff on the webpage which isn't really as publishable. I've written a lot of stuff. Mostly to no avail, as they say, but a lot of stuff. Mostly these days I just sit there quietly doing nothing. But here comes the heat! Here comes the heat!
posted by Hotboy at 1:22 PM
5 Comments:
Happy birthday to your wee wan. I hope she likes the books! Is she a Buddhist, or are you just hoping to get her there?
On meditating- I appreciate your efforts to proselytise (sp?) because it seems to represent an altruistic wish to share something wonderful. I have problems with religion, especially with that G-d bastard; but I suspect that s/he's not necessary to the practice of meditation- just the attempt to give up of self and (?) the embrace of compassion.
I've been (un)lucky enough to experience psychotic episodes a few times in my life. These were frightening, but included epiphanies on the connectedness of life and a higher collective consciousness. During these, I was no longer frightened of death, and suffering seemed a lesson to abandon desire. Were these pure craziness, or tapping into a universal truth?
I don't know much, except that feeling unspecial and small, as a cog in a big blissful universe helps me feel happy. That's what works for me.
Ion: "epiphanies on the connectedness of life and a higher collective consciousness." That sounds pretty good! The kiddo wasn't hustled about religion partly because I didn't like the feeling I'd been lied to when I was a teenager. But I do wish she'd meditate. BTW I don't do God. I do ignorance. Embracing ignorance does open things up for me! BTW my buddhism isn't really a religion, more a psychological/consciousness thing. Nice to hear about the epiphanies! Hotboy
My father always claimed that my brother looked like an old boot when he was born. Apparently I looked beautiful. Of course nowadays it's reversed, and I'm the bootlike one.
Happy birthday to the wee wan, whom I have met twice. I'm surprised she's only 19, last time I saw her she seemed an adult. Why would she meditate if she's already well-adjusted? People of my generation don't become grown up before they're at least 40, that's why they have to do all the compensatory routines. Like blogging and blissing.
That reminds me. "Sunset Song" is a preposterous book. What father would really treat his son as badly as that? Did you consider buying her some books she would read? That would help. Still, at least you didn't buy her socks.
Adolf! Heil! If the kiddo was well adjusted, she'd have a good starting point for the meditating, which would make her happier and give her a better view. Also, a place to go when life is not so comfortable. Born to be comfortable! Born to be comfortable! Dearie me. Hotboy p.s. Interesting how your old man's view changed about babies after he'd had you to contend with. Talk about the eye of the beholder!
Happy Birthday to your daughter! Wow, almost out of her teenage years!
Hope you guys had lots of fun!
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