More Drunken Reflections on the Path!

11:50 p.m.
Scene setting. I've had four cans of wifebeater. I went out and bought three bottles of beer. The first is Grolsch Premium Weizen Wheat Beer, a very tasty and expensive brew.

It's been amazingly hot for Chilly Jocklanders today.

I don't know what attracted me to meditating. One time I think I understood that everyone followed punishment and reward, in that no one does stuff to hurt themselves, not intentionally. They can't all be loonies these joes and josephines who sat in caves. There is deferred gratification. I did not think that all the saints in the Holy Roman Catholic and Apostolic Church could be mad. There has got to be a sweetie in it somewhere, as there must be in watching creekit, though that is a path I did not feel attracted to. So I do not know why I was attracted to meditating. Maybe finding such disappointment in the lack of anything in the catholic church helped. As Kalu Rinpoche said, it is not profound. In fact, Catholic theology is stupid.

You don't need much to meditate. I did not expect much. I wanted to suck it and see. I was very keen on the arrangement of words at the time and meditating was something you could do when you weren't doing that.

The pulsations, the red and white shocks up the spine and all of that stuff at the beginning did not freak me out because of the way I was brought up and became somebody. Everything was always going to work out alright. I was not scared of myself. Us hotboys aren't all that good at doing anxiety.

And all the way through whenever I have had cause to think that maybe this was going a bit squeegy, that maybe this was getting a bit much and not being normal ... the feelings that you might be going fall over with the strangeness of what was happening with the breathing and breath-holding ... all the way through I did not think that I wasn't up to this juju. I did not think that this was beyond me, that other cats could do this and I couldn't.

This was a confidence that was given to me by my family, by the loving caring and attention that was given to me by my female relatives. I was always boosted by them. They did not bequeath to me anxiety.

Then you start getting the bliss. Maybe sixteen years ago I started getting the bliss. The bliss is a big subject. How long is a piece of string? When you talk to flatheids about the bliss, they might respond by telling you about how much they like gardening, or playing with the computery things. Bliss is just a word to flatheids. Flatheids, unfortunately, do not get the bliss. It's just a word to a flatheid.

Today, I had to sit in the Assembly Hall on the Mound waiting to watch my daughter getting capped. This is boredom you can afford. Whilst waiting, I started in on the breathing. The envelope started filling with heat. Later, I'm standing outside. I really don't want to stand in the sun. Sensitivity. I don't want to stand in the sunshine. Heat beyond what it should be.

All the way down the line, what has happened is so far what it said in the book, The Bliss Of Inner Fire. I thought I might crash and burn because of physiological disturbance, but this is not what the problem is at the moment.

This is the jet plane. This is crash and burn. This is not the walking path, or the motoring path. This is the high risk juju.

The heat is sexual. Or it turns out to be sexual. Or, it becomes more sexual, and sensuous. I wasn't expecting the bliss and I wasn't expecting this sexual energy thing. I'm fifty eight years old. When I was an adolescent, I thought all this malarkey would stop when I was about thirty five. I have never welcomed it. Because I was brought up with the Virgin Mary, I was autistic about it.

It's life, Jim, but not as we would like it to be.

Recently, in the last week or so, I think I have understood what this juju and the heat is all about. When the boy says that the juice goes down to the navel and the secret place, then onto the secret secret or tip place; hold it there and bring it back up. Taking desire into the path is a very, very hard thing to do.

We embrace our ignorance
We don't believe in any things
Especially thoughts.

Knowing more, experiencing more than your usual flatheid, dispels a little bit of ignorance.

When you come back from the Samye Ling this summer, Hotboy, will you hump their brains out? No, I will not do this, Jack. I will not exploit folk with my little bits of charisma. I will be filled with compassion and alruism, loving kindness, bliss and joy, heat and healing ...

When Gompopa met Milarepa (later on he fainted when he heard that Milarepa had died), Milarepa offered him a skull full of alcohol. Gampopa had vowed never to drink alcohol, but since he was there for guidance, etc., thought he'd better drink it all in one shot. I do not know what that means ...

I'm so hot for you. I'm so hot for you. I'm so hot for you.

When I have become a tantric sex god, I may need a yogini who is just like me. I understand it now. You can't do unity without a yogini. Can the spango yogini stand on her head? Can you come down into a sitting position? I promise I'll go to the Samye Ling this summer and lose a stone. I'll be gorgeous, so I will. You'll look like heaven to me!

Friday 5:35 p.m.
Please don't take offense, especially if you are the Domestic Bliss or from Spango! It was the drink! I don't like editing the drunken bum stuff out since it might tell you something. What would it tell you, Hotboy? Well, Jack, it would tell you to get a breathalyser fitted to the computery thing.

I was sober and straight for Sunday, Monday and Tuesday. On the beer Wednesday and Thursday. Tonight there will be no drinking since I'm being visited by my stimulating friends from the Wild West, who will have Eric from Eindhoven and/or Lou Reed and/or the Bolivian Marching Band with them. Don't know which. Hope it's Lou. Never was a huge fan of the Marching Band and I don't need my serotonin levels boosted right now. Yon Eric can be a bit of sex pest as well! Dearie me!