Ra Clear Horizons!

Thursday 11:05 a.m.
Fair play to the jobbie-men for at last they've done something right! What an amazement! Partly due to this, I left the jobbie yesterday, after my half a day working week was over, feeling most exhilerated. Trying to realise non-self and emptiness is, of course, a full time job and I shouldn't really be doing anything else. An exhausting half a day it was too, but I felt great again after I had a wee lie down!

I can feel the happiness starting to shine through. I haven't had any beer or cannybliss yogurt since Sunday and, although that's supposed to be par for the course for most evil bourgeois basturns, it's still quite a stretch for me these days. A friend of mine once met a gurl, got engaged, and split up over an eighteen month period without ever having been with her when he was straight. I mean, that's normal, isn't it?

That description of reality/emptiness from Tsongkhapa given in the last post probably comes, more or less, from Nagarjuna, the Indian sage. I assume both these joes were fully realised buddhas. They're trying to describe reality for flatheids like me and you as a help to judder our minds into a better, newer way of thinking. What I mean is that I don't think this stuff starts with the descriptive thoughts. It's coming backwards, as it were, from the realisation. My guru told me once I'd get everything from the straightforward calming meditations, but I didn't listen to that of course. But I find that the descriptions of what emptiness might be does help me.

The meditations power on and the next few days might well be fantastic. I hope so.

3:45 p.m.
What a great day I'm having! At one o clock I was doing some sitting with our friend with the MS so her husband could go a message. What a great big smile she gave me! I asked her if she felt she was becoming intellectually impaired. Let's be frank. Some folk told me she was becoming doo-lally. She can't speak much, but she can still speak much better than my sister (who had the other type of MS) could speak. For years nobody could understand a word my sister was trying to say except us family members who'd listened while her language deteriorated. Nobody in our house ever thought the MS was making her any stupider. So I asked our friend with the MS if she could still follow a radio play or something on the telly. She said yes; she liked listening to radio plays. She thought her mind was fine. She gets tired. She can't speak properly. I asked if she wanted me to shut up, so she could listen to the radio, or would she like to hear about the three turnings of the wheel of dharma? She asked for the dharma.

It might have been at least as good for me as it was for her. Trying to tell someone something is one of the best ways of remembering and learning it yourself. It lasted about an hour and just at the end, the doorbell rang and the carers showed up to do the caring. Then her husband came back just as they were leaving. I cycled home. Whee!

Then I came in here to do some re-writing of The Real McCoy. I did about an hour on it last week. Last night I decided the introduction to Angus McSorley was really appalling bad and would have to be completely re-written. The character had no fung character! Anyway, I've just had a great idea on how to change the story and make it much better. Something just fired my rockets!

Where do you get your ideas from, Hotboy? I get them from thinking, Jack! Where the fung else would I get them from? They arise in mind; abide in mind; decline in mind!! I'm having a great life, so I am! What more could a body ask for? Oh, yes, I'm quite exhausted now after writing my novel for half an hour and I think it's best if I go for a wee snooze!