2:00 a.m.
I went to see the auld maw today. My brother was there. So there's the four of us in the once council house. Me and Silvest and the auld maw and the auntie Kathy. My brother Silvest is now about 72 and he's started doing the caring thing with his auld maw. And when he leaves, the auld maw surmises that he is going to see his girlfriend/carer who's having a bad time with her chist, but there is no mention of her son who is doing the long time in the jail for stabbing her nine times.
My auld maw is really getting some caring from her sister, the auntie Kathy, but my auntie Kathy is not acknowledged for this. She puts food in front of the auld maw and some biscuits and that kind of thing, the way women used to do for men. A servant. So usually she sits and says nothing, except to me. She's eighty three years old and smokes menthol cigarettes because they are the healthy ones. Anyway, she doesn't cough. The auld maw is about 92 and she spends a lot of time upstairs, so auntie Kathy can sit downstairs and smoke the menthol fags. My maw gave up fags when she was seventy and apart from the haemorrhaging lungs one time, she's been fine since.
So I say hello to Silvest, and tell him such things like my friend winning the money on the horses, and such like things. It's really nice to see him. Then he goes away. The auntie Kathy says that he's forgotten his fags and lighter, and I say that's alright. I get out the door and run after him. I know that everyone will think this is amazing. The auld maw and the auntie Kathy have never ever run anywhere. Silvest is like John Wayne, so he's not running anywhere either.
I'm kind of amazed as well, as I run across the grass and get him to turn round and hand him the fags and the lighter.
I'm so fond of him . He's my brother Silvest, row of forty medals on his chest, big chest. The soul of compassion. It's like the joys of being working class.
Friday, 7 January 2011
Day 3
Friday 8:00 p.m.
Can't say the nicotine withdrawals have been too much of a problem. What I was worried about was losing the rag about .. well, nothing much at all. I've felt a bit antsy sometimes when I've been meditating and my nerves haven't really settle down yet, but it's been much easier to deal with than I had imagined. The evenings have been the worst. Boring. This is boredom you can afford. But I've had some home brew for the last two nights to tide me over, and I'll probably have some tonight as well. Of course, I haven't seen many people and that's always a help. Every day in every way I'm getting better and better and better. And now that I'm nearly sixty I have to stop smoking!!!
Can't say the nicotine withdrawals have been too much of a problem. What I was worried about was losing the rag about .. well, nothing much at all. I've felt a bit antsy sometimes when I've been meditating and my nerves haven't really settle down yet, but it's been much easier to deal with than I had imagined. The evenings have been the worst. Boring. This is boredom you can afford. But I've had some home brew for the last two nights to tide me over, and I'll probably have some tonight as well. Of course, I haven't seen many people and that's always a help. Every day in every way I'm getting better and better and better. And now that I'm nearly sixty I have to stop smoking!!!
Thursday, 6 January 2011
Correspondences between Milarepa and Christ.
10:40 p.m.
And on the second day, he got a bit pissed as was his wont whilst lacking in the cannybliss (and baccy!)
Some similar things about Christ and Milarepa. I think Christ was a buddhist. Or a hindu. The forty days and nights in the desert .... some cats got it and some cats aint.
Milarepa said you had to love other people more than yourself.
When he was dying, he directed his disciples to the stuff buried under his hearth, his 'gold'. One thing was a sugar cube and another was a bit of cloth. So you could half the cube and half the bit of cloth and the bits remaining were the same size as the original. Loaves and fishes.
Milarepa was supposed to be a buddha. In his story, he says that he could go to buddha realms and divide into numerous entities, but in his dreams. He didn't say he could do this while he was awake. Buddhas are supposed to be omnicient, but what does that mean?
There are a lot of miracles at the end of the Milarepa story, when he decides as a hermit to go and die in one of the caves. At this time it says he appeared to lots of flatheids and seems to have divided up himself in some way. People had simultaneous experiences of his presence. I think this is in the Christ story as well, but after he'd been crucified and rose again.
Of course, in the Disbelieving Congregation we don't believe in any things, but these correspondences I thought were interesting, especially as regards the compassion.
Interesting programme this evening on BBC Three about cannybliss. Lots of kids on screen smoking dope. They don't expect to get arrested. My generation was traumatised by the domestic busts, the doors getting kicked in, the arrests for traces.
The fascist basturns will all go to hell, won't they, Jack? Don't worry about that, Hotboy. They'll all go to hell.
And on the second day, he got a bit pissed as was his wont whilst lacking in the cannybliss (and baccy!)
Some similar things about Christ and Milarepa. I think Christ was a buddhist. Or a hindu. The forty days and nights in the desert .... some cats got it and some cats aint.
Milarepa said you had to love other people more than yourself.
When he was dying, he directed his disciples to the stuff buried under his hearth, his 'gold'. One thing was a sugar cube and another was a bit of cloth. So you could half the cube and half the bit of cloth and the bits remaining were the same size as the original. Loaves and fishes.
Milarepa was supposed to be a buddha. In his story, he says that he could go to buddha realms and divide into numerous entities, but in his dreams. He didn't say he could do this while he was awake. Buddhas are supposed to be omnicient, but what does that mean?
There are a lot of miracles at the end of the Milarepa story, when he decides as a hermit to go and die in one of the caves. At this time it says he appeared to lots of flatheids and seems to have divided up himself in some way. People had simultaneous experiences of his presence. I think this is in the Christ story as well, but after he'd been crucified and rose again.
Of course, in the Disbelieving Congregation we don't believe in any things, but these correspondences I thought were interesting, especially as regards the compassion.
Interesting programme this evening on BBC Three about cannybliss. Lots of kids on screen smoking dope. They don't expect to get arrested. My generation was traumatised by the domestic busts, the doors getting kicked in, the arrests for traces.
The fascist basturns will all go to hell, won't they, Jack? Don't worry about that, Hotboy. They'll all go to hell.
Day 2!
The effects of no tobacco today were much diminished compared to yesterday. The main problem has been a difficulty in settling into the meditations. Kind of waiting for the time to run by.
I used some time up by walking through the Botanics and I did sit in the hut for a wee while. The photies are of the trees in Inverleith Park.
Wednesday, 5 January 2011
The New Year Upwards!
12:05 a.m.
Things that might happen this year.
1) I might finally be able to stop blogging. I was advised to start blogging when I did start to attract attention to my webpage with free books on it, which was to attract a literary agent. This did not work. But I did get a literary agent nonetheless. Now I think I have some connections through this thing and ... well, do I have connections through this thing? Yes, I do. Jeannie looks at it.
2) I might stop blogging this year. I might stop blogging if I stop drinking. I might stop blogging if I get told to by people who might give me money to stop, or say that I might get less money if I go on. If I got books published in some form, I might be told that writing this crap isn't helping. With my profile.
3) I might stop blogging and start writing. I was casting my mind back recently to the dissolving of sentences and the construction of sentences, and I really liked doing that kind of hard graft with the writing thing once. Maybe it's because I don't write anymore really. Maybe I would like to have a go at that again. Breaking things down and building them up. As soon as you get any kind of success, you might stop doing that. And just whore away.
The shape of life ... the moment by moment (are you enjoying this?) and the shape of your life are kind of two different things. If you can get your mind to go to the bliss, in a moment by moment view, you might be reassured. If you can die in the bliss, you get both. Unfortunately, though personnally that might be alright for you, the flatheids don't get the moment by moment bliss and joy, neither do they get the good stuff in the shape at the end. I know I'm not much better, but watching them wriggling and struggling, and staggering about with their heads up their bums ...
There will be no flatheids in this year. I love flatheids. Well, they are usually alright when they are young. Over thirty, you should impale themselves. But I'm giving up on the too dumb to meditate this year. There are no sentient beings. If there are any, fung them! I'd like to die, but I'd like all of them to die first. Twisted and screaming as they do. Unless I can achieve some compassion for them in this new year, I suppose I'll be funged as well. But not as funged at them! How could you be as funged up as that?
Things that might happen this year.
1) I might finally be able to stop blogging. I was advised to start blogging when I did start to attract attention to my webpage with free books on it, which was to attract a literary agent. This did not work. But I did get a literary agent nonetheless. Now I think I have some connections through this thing and ... well, do I have connections through this thing? Yes, I do. Jeannie looks at it.
2) I might stop blogging this year. I might stop blogging if I stop drinking. I might stop blogging if I get told to by people who might give me money to stop, or say that I might get less money if I go on. If I got books published in some form, I might be told that writing this crap isn't helping. With my profile.
3) I might stop blogging and start writing. I was casting my mind back recently to the dissolving of sentences and the construction of sentences, and I really liked doing that kind of hard graft with the writing thing once. Maybe it's because I don't write anymore really. Maybe I would like to have a go at that again. Breaking things down and building them up. As soon as you get any kind of success, you might stop doing that. And just whore away.
The shape of life ... the moment by moment (are you enjoying this?) and the shape of your life are kind of two different things. If you can get your mind to go to the bliss, in a moment by moment view, you might be reassured. If you can die in the bliss, you get both. Unfortunately, though personnally that might be alright for you, the flatheids don't get the moment by moment bliss and joy, neither do they get the good stuff in the shape at the end. I know I'm not much better, but watching them wriggling and struggling, and staggering about with their heads up their bums ...
There will be no flatheids in this year. I love flatheids. Well, they are usually alright when they are young. Over thirty, you should impale themselves. But I'm giving up on the too dumb to meditate this year. There are no sentient beings. If there are any, fung them! I'd like to die, but I'd like all of them to die first. Twisted and screaming as they do. Unless I can achieve some compassion for them in this new year, I suppose I'll be funged as well. But not as funged at them! How could you be as funged up as that?
During the Nicotine Dragon Death Throes!
The photies were taken this morning on the way to the jobbie; the first two on Princes Street as usual; and the last one as the No 12 turned at the PC World down in Costorphine.
This is the first day with no nicotine after three weeks of nicotine every day, which followed a month with none. C'est la vie. There won't be much of a problem giving up again. There would be if I had some bob hope, but I haven't, so there won't be. Actually, I've been looking forward to running out. Purification and accumulation!! Here we come!!
Tuesday, 4 January 2011
New Year status!
Tuesday 2:20 p.m.
What a good holiday this has been! Almost unmarked, unbruised, unbowed. I was up on Hogmanay till five, but other than that good order prevailed. Three times on the beer over the holiday and no hangovers. Hurrah!
I'm going to be sixty this February so I should be dead already. Since I was supposed to have a life expectancy of fifty two, that nearly eight years in the gravy. For most of these eight years I've been meditating for about forty hours most weeks and the rest of the time has been largely wasted, but the meditations continue to be so sustaining.
I'm into the bliss, Jack!! I'm so into the bliss! I'm sorry about the too dumb to meditate and all the flatheids, but we are the authors of our own misfortunes and good luck to them all as they stand braced against the slings and arrows with their heads stuck up their bums. I'm not that sorry for them. Fung them!
I go back to work tomorrow and I'm in for one of those new year's when the Nicotine Dragon will have be screwered, so I will surely realise then that samsara and nirvana are just down to your point of view! Oh, well. Onward and upward!
What a good holiday this has been! Almost unmarked, unbruised, unbowed. I was up on Hogmanay till five, but other than that good order prevailed. Three times on the beer over the holiday and no hangovers. Hurrah!
I'm going to be sixty this February so I should be dead already. Since I was supposed to have a life expectancy of fifty two, that nearly eight years in the gravy. For most of these eight years I've been meditating for about forty hours most weeks and the rest of the time has been largely wasted, but the meditations continue to be so sustaining.
I'm into the bliss, Jack!! I'm so into the bliss! I'm sorry about the too dumb to meditate and all the flatheids, but we are the authors of our own misfortunes and good luck to them all as they stand braced against the slings and arrows with their heads stuck up their bums. I'm not that sorry for them. Fung them!
I go back to work tomorrow and I'm in for one of those new year's when the Nicotine Dragon will have be screwered, so I will surely realise then that samsara and nirvana are just down to your point of view! Oh, well. Onward and upward!
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