Sunday Night

Sunday 8:04 p.m.
I'm the usual ordinary joe. The boy in this book I was reading was saying that you cannot expect to get the bliss and whatnot if you are an "ordinary person". He was talking about this other joe who started off meditating by being told to do walking meditations, and sitting meditations, and nothing else. This sounds like what happened to the English boy who went to the Theravadins and said he wanted to meditate. So that's what he had to do. Meditate. Nothing else. I think this is because the people teaching him to meditate know the results and I appreciate their method. Just fung do it. Stop greetin and moaning and groaning. Just fung do it.

Or, your life has a course and if you want to get the bliss towards the end, like moi, you'd better put in some efforts along the way and not meander through this existence like some fung moron.

I think this week I felt myself grow happier. I'm not worried about the wrong turns this juju might take. There's not going to be any wrong turns. Sometimes this week I might have felt a wee intimation of emptiness and that's going to make anyone happier since non-self and emptiness might mean that moi does not have to put up with so many afflictive emotions. Also, such bliss and joy in the meditations. Even if you're a disgrace to the juju and a bad boy like me, the bliss is bound to start hitting out into your everyday life eventually.

I hope I've given up writing this time. A couple of days ago when the connectivity was awry, I looked at the traffic warden book beginnings and started re-writing it, of course, straight away. No, no, no! Stay away! Anyway, I have noted that Alison Main is now broken out of her webpage and is becoming a writer in her own right on the internet. How odd! How appropriate. I'm too old to be bothered about being a successful anything. I'd much rather spend all my time investigating the bliss.

This is the part of the month when I succumb towards the lonely financial zone. I'm so happy with that right now. No bob hope and the booze is on the credit card. Purification and accumulation. I think from July (when I get six weeks holiday. Hurrah!) I will start to make home brew and get hold of a proper lamp for growing bob hope. This will solve my financial problems and allow me to get out a bit more.

The photie is of St Teresa. Bernini who sculpted it .. well, some people said he was portraying lust, but Bernini practised the spiritual exercises of Ignatius Loyolla, so he might have known about the bliss. I hope he did.

If in our culture there were tons of folk meditating all the time, no one would say a dumb thing like that about the sculpture. Why is the world so full of flatheids?

St Teresa is my favourite tim. She was a woman. The confessors she had, all men, were morons. Despite not being in a tradition which would have helped her, instinctively she might have known what she had to do, and she got it all. This is Bernini's idea of spiritual ecstasy. Well done!