Wednesday 23:36 p.m.
There is no point in trying to describe meditations to people. You are like the joe who is talking to someone about dropping acid. Unless you've taken acid ... so I'm not going to try to tell anyone what it's been like since I went to the Samye Ling. Mainly, it's been complete crap, the horrorshow, and most unpleasant. To think that it was only a week ago ... and now, here I am.
Today I tried to regain firm ground. Tomorrow I may be able to spend almost the whole day without having to speak to anyone, and that would be wonderful.
I could do much better in an empty room. I'm screaming for it. I need solitary confinement.
But I'm settling into the gross. A week back.
When I'm meditating though ...without the flatheids and all that stuff ... when I'm meditating ... well, I won't bore you with that because you probably don't meditate... and are just one huge despair all on your own. One huge despair, so you are. I can close my eyes to the grossness and fall right into the bliss. But it doesn't seem to help. So what?
Just give me tomorrow, lordy, lordy! Just give me tomorrow without the doorbell ringing, the phone ringing; just give me tomorrow without the flatheids! Just give me tomorrow and I will try and try and try, so I will.
4 comments:
I know what you mean. Today's my wonderfully restorative day at home, speaking to nobody except the dog. While I was gardening the neighbour spoilt it by speaking to me over the fence. He invited me to go to the beach for a swim. I had to come up with an excuse.
I know that was all about me, but I reckoned it relates to your post.
Albert? Got up this morning feeling really happy. Bummer going back to the jobbie, so it was! Hotboy
Albert? Do it often happenstance that your neighbours ask you to go for a swim? Were you wearing your budgie smugglers at the time? We need to to know! Hotboy
Hotters. Where did you learn the term budgie smugglers?
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