Thursday 1:00 p.m.
About fifteen billion years ago, there was supposed to be nothing. No up or down, no sideways, no time, no nothing. Since then we have developed sufficiently to ask if we believe in miracles or not.
It's enough to make you laugh, isn't it, Jack? If the whole shebang isn't just one big blooming miracle, I don't know what is!
But could Milarepa change shape and fly and whatnot, as it says in his biography, Hotboy? How do I know, Jack? In the Disbelieving Congregation we only believe in ignorance, but this is a much more interesting question than it would have been before I started trying to do this juju. Before I started in with the bliss and the heat, I would probably have said that no way could Christ walk on water or raise folk from the dead. These days I'm really a don't know.
Before he started flying about the place, Milarepa bricked himself into a retreat and then burst out of it after having a dream where a dakini told him he'd need to go and get something from his guru. So he goes to Marpa and asks Marpa if his guru, Naropa, had given him the instructions on how to accomplish the Transference of Consciousness into Dead Bodies. Hmmm?
It's much easier if you're one of the morons who don't meditate. These UFOs do not believe in ignorance and think they know stuff even if they don't even know that their heads are flat. The UFOs make assertions, such as, I don't believe this and I do believe that. Well, we all have to do a bit of that when someone tells us the world is run by reptiles or whatever, but there are huge areas where it makes sense to have an open mind. I don't believe in the supernatural. I think I could hang my hat on the insufficiency of knowledge as regards satisfactory explanations. In other words, more bloody ignorance.
I've had a great start to the day. Meditated all morning in the lobby and had soup for lunch. The soup today is made with onions, tatties and cabbage from the allotment plus green lentils and the usual condiments and spices. I have no idea why my food tastes so good. I'm sure it doesn't taste like that to anyone else.
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9 comments:
But is there really a beginning or end to anything? Or is it the illusion we use to fit in?
Your soup sounds interesting. I used onions from my garden to make Cullin Skink for my hubby. They are pretty small and a bit pitiful. But as a first time gardener, I'm pretty happy with getting anything.
Marie: Can't do metaphysics in this state! But the soup is .. and the breid ... and the home made beer! What more could a body ask for? I'm sorry about the food references in this bloggy, but I'm sure you're used to some awkwardness if you can't eat vegetables. If I ever see you, we could get a sheeps and eat it. Wickerman eat your heart out! Hotboy
Marie: What is Cullen Skink? Hotboy
It isn't a problem, unless you are going to try and feed me. I've been told fairly often that I am 'difficult' to feed.
Actually I consider sheep to stupid to eat.
Cullin Skink is a soup/stew made with Smoked Haddock, onions, potatoes, stock and spices. Thickened with mashed potatoes and finished with double cream and butter. I don't eat it, but my hubby loves it. I've actually been to the town of Cullin where it came from.
I use my crock pot for it and slow cook it all day.
Yon Cullin Skink sounds delicious! Hotboy
I say!
If there was no up or down, no sideways, no time, no nothing, then what was round the back? Cabbage (or whatever he calls himself nowadays) spends most of his time round the back, and I'd like to be able to explain to him where he would have been, had he been hereabouts about fifteen billion years ago.
MM III
Hard to know what to say without offending somebody. Suffice to say, as a good Scot I was born eating Scullen Kink. I am too open-minded to believe in openmindedness, but I do believe in soup.
Sounds like I need to invite everyone out when I make the next vat of soup. *grin*
Perhaps the reference points are what keep us from realizing our own lack of reality. When we get caught up in the up/down, near/far, before/behind labels, we get confused and go for the lowest level of remembered comfort. Letting go of those reference points is a bit daunting. But what a grand challenge.
Marie, Mingin' and Onan! Saturday morning now and time to meditate once more. Down with conjecture! Hotboy
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