Ra View from Cramond!
Wednesday 12:43 p.m.
I sent a letter to Teresa, the nun I write letters to sometimes, at the Samye Ling, telling her I'd got an agent for my new book. I'd sent a letter a wee while ago asking for good wishes in getting an agent, so now I've asked for the same to get me a publisher.
I try not to wait for news. I'm counting my blessing and trying to establish contentment with what I've got, which is a great deal.
I've been getting knocked out by ra bliss over the last few days. It just seems to get stronger and stronger. Sometimes it might seem that you cannot take any more of ra bliss, but you can. You can. Of course, if you don't meditate, you will never experience even a wee tottie bit of ra bliss. This is the choice that you have in this life. Go for ra bliss, or be a moron. You don't have to believe in anything to get ra bliss, but you do have to meditate.
I didn't cycle to work this week due to the wind and rain, and being a wimp. But it is a wonderful wintery day today, with the blue skies and the cold still air. So soon I'll be off in the nazi bike. I'm so happy that I managed to go half time two and a half years ago. And now I've got an agent and don't have to send out stuff anymore. What a fortunate, fortunate creature I am!
7:50 p.m.
The next couple of days might be a bit important for the meditations. I assume I'm still not getting an awful lot of heat, but an awful lot of bliss because I haven't been concentrating enough on the navel symbol, or perhaps not doing it the right way. I don't think it should be seen as a separate thing somehow. Anyway, it's the heat that sometimes worries me a little. But it doesn't matter what I think. If I keep up the time spent in meditation, it'll happen.
Robert Louis Stevenson wrote once that Edinburgh was a city of unexpected seascapes. When I first read that, I didn't know what he was going on about. But if you're RLS coming home to Heriot Row from the uni, you have to walk up the incline at Hanover Street or Frederick Street and at the top you see unexpected seascapes. You can see Fife across the Forth estuary.
There's a two mile promenade along the shore before you get to Cramond. The Forth was beautiful today, with wee clouds over the part above the Forth Rail Bridge. The Romans had a settlement at Cramond, of course. There's a wee river running into the Forth there. Usually, that part's full of swans. Not today. Spent an hour and a half on the bike.
8:40 p.m.
Listening to the footie on the radio; doing the blogosphere. Was much amused by the sensei's blog. He's been singing in public again. That is something to see. I was in a pub with him and Kevin Williamson once when he did that. He also played the guitar. He's the only person I've ever seen who played the guitar worse than me. His guitar playing was awful, but his singing was even worse. I turned to Kevin Williamson and said something like: "If you're his manager, please, please don't ever let him do that again!" Not only has he been singing in public, he's managed to get a photie taken that makes him look normal. Surely there must be some jiggery pokery going on there, with the photoshop stuff maybe.
11:42 p.m.
When the vase breathing seems to be working, there's nothing on this sweet earth that can hold a candle to it. Waves of gorgeous, delectable sensation rippling up your body. Ra bliss rarely seems simple. It's composed. With vase breathing, you get a symphony of ra bliss with different tones and tinges, in different combinations, an interesting nexus of the physical and mental, a hedonist's dream. Ra bliss you get from the straight calming meditations seems more refined somehow. It just opens up and goes bliiiiiiiisssssss. Depending on how much you've been doing and how good a boy you've been, you might be able to go bliiiiiiiiisssss for quite a delectable bit. Oh, ra bliss, ra bliss, ra bliss!
I sent a letter to Teresa, the nun I write letters to sometimes, at the Samye Ling, telling her I'd got an agent for my new book. I'd sent a letter a wee while ago asking for good wishes in getting an agent, so now I've asked for the same to get me a publisher.
I try not to wait for news. I'm counting my blessing and trying to establish contentment with what I've got, which is a great deal.
I've been getting knocked out by ra bliss over the last few days. It just seems to get stronger and stronger. Sometimes it might seem that you cannot take any more of ra bliss, but you can. You can. Of course, if you don't meditate, you will never experience even a wee tottie bit of ra bliss. This is the choice that you have in this life. Go for ra bliss, or be a moron. You don't have to believe in anything to get ra bliss, but you do have to meditate.
I didn't cycle to work this week due to the wind and rain, and being a wimp. But it is a wonderful wintery day today, with the blue skies and the cold still air. So soon I'll be off in the nazi bike. I'm so happy that I managed to go half time two and a half years ago. And now I've got an agent and don't have to send out stuff anymore. What a fortunate, fortunate creature I am!
7:50 p.m.
The next couple of days might be a bit important for the meditations. I assume I'm still not getting an awful lot of heat, but an awful lot of bliss because I haven't been concentrating enough on the navel symbol, or perhaps not doing it the right way. I don't think it should be seen as a separate thing somehow. Anyway, it's the heat that sometimes worries me a little. But it doesn't matter what I think. If I keep up the time spent in meditation, it'll happen.
Robert Louis Stevenson wrote once that Edinburgh was a city of unexpected seascapes. When I first read that, I didn't know what he was going on about. But if you're RLS coming home to Heriot Row from the uni, you have to walk up the incline at Hanover Street or Frederick Street and at the top you see unexpected seascapes. You can see Fife across the Forth estuary.
There's a two mile promenade along the shore before you get to Cramond. The Forth was beautiful today, with wee clouds over the part above the Forth Rail Bridge. The Romans had a settlement at Cramond, of course. There's a wee river running into the Forth there. Usually, that part's full of swans. Not today. Spent an hour and a half on the bike.
8:40 p.m.
Listening to the footie on the radio; doing the blogosphere. Was much amused by the sensei's blog. He's been singing in public again. That is something to see. I was in a pub with him and Kevin Williamson once when he did that. He also played the guitar. He's the only person I've ever seen who played the guitar worse than me. His guitar playing was awful, but his singing was even worse. I turned to Kevin Williamson and said something like: "If you're his manager, please, please don't ever let him do that again!" Not only has he been singing in public, he's managed to get a photie taken that makes him look normal. Surely there must be some jiggery pokery going on there, with the photoshop stuff maybe.
11:42 p.m.
When the vase breathing seems to be working, there's nothing on this sweet earth that can hold a candle to it. Waves of gorgeous, delectable sensation rippling up your body. Ra bliss rarely seems simple. It's composed. With vase breathing, you get a symphony of ra bliss with different tones and tinges, in different combinations, an interesting nexus of the physical and mental, a hedonist's dream. Ra bliss you get from the straight calming meditations seems more refined somehow. It just opens up and goes bliiiiiiiisssssss. Depending on how much you've been doing and how good a boy you've been, you might be able to go bliiiiiiiiisssss for quite a delectable bit. Oh, ra bliss, ra bliss, ra bliss!
posted by Hotboy at 12:48 PM
4 Comments:
Good for you, trying to establish contentment, acceptance of other people's moronity. Moronism. Flatheidedness. It helps me.
Good idea to curry favour with the gods of the east. Are you sure you're doing it right? I think you're supposed to sacrifice an ancestor. There's one of mine you could use, near you.
Are you quite sure that there's no bliss at all without meditation? Seems to me I've had short snatches of it, though not as frequently or consistently as your good self. Maybe what I glimpsed was a reflection, through a mirror darkly.
Know what you mean about those seascapes. On a clear day, Blackford Hill offers spectacular views east to Seton, Musselburgh and Cockenzie. Even have a fondness for the power station at Cockenzie. Another favourite is gazing north from Calton Hill.
After a nightshift, I wait for the bus on Frederick St at Queen St Gardens and watch the cyclists pedalling up that basturn hill. A bloke was this morning making laboured, leisurely progress but with an enormous grin on his puss. I think he had a secret to impart, but since I cannot ride a bike I shall never know.
Ion, surely someone somewhere must be getting spontaneous doses of ra bliss! I hope you are one of those fortunate creatures! I can never remember which is Hanover and which Frederick Street. I'm used to running up the basturn hill on the one Clark's Bar is on. There's five breaks for crossing roads, I think, from the bottom to Queen Street. I doubt if I've ever smiled running up there. The best hill to run up is Clermiston Road (?) in Costorphine. I'm going to try to cycle up it one day, but I don't know if it's possible! Hotboy
About cycling up Clermiston Road. Surely everything's possible if you engage a low enough gear? That's how I achieved all my achievements.
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