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Friday, 19 October 2007

masters first day

ohh golly gosh, golly gosh, i'm so happy and excited.

went to the masters course. it was hopelessly organised. but really, with a little patience, and ears out (it was a bit difficult to hear all of the words, cos the profe talks quite flat and mumbles) i hear some wonderful stuff. actually, since i've done a lot of preparation, i knew a lot of what was being said, but i began to see it all in a different light.

like the shadow. it isn't repression, but this inability of ours to open up to our eternal, beautiful selves...

Thursday, 18 October 2007


yesterday I became angry, angry at myself and at the world and yet there, waiting for my friend in avenida cathedral, i could not express my fury.

i whimpered a little, a few tears, and set to work on a course of self destruction. rolled a cigarette for good measure and thought how it would be nice to get completely trolleyied with whatever was to hand.

I stepped back, eyes suddenly popping open to the inner patterns...I wanted to self destruct. ohh, the bliss. the holy bliss of changing states. Milan Kundera (with capital letters for my respect, he is a hero to me), said that vertigo is not a fear of heights, everyone has it...

imagine standing right on the edge of a huge drop. Looking down…feeling that draw….

vertigo, he says, is the yearning to fall over the edge, to be yearn into that magnetic pull, to let oneself freefall, to go right down there into the dark fury depths. The fear is the fear of oneself not being able to hold back from lurching into that “fantastic freedom”.

And when we are weak we let ourselves fall luxouriously down from where we came from. Where is it safe. Where we know the rules and how things work. Where we laugh in the face of happiness, seeing it for its unstable self, for its inability to stand upright for more than a few sparkling moments, days. We are sure that how we feel now, we can feel forever! Safe at last in wretchedness, in isolation, in fear of love! Now we can really set about bemoaning the cruelity of life…rolling in it…being safe from any personal risks…

Largada says that we were born in hell. It is where we came from, and our mission in life is to crawl ourselves out of there, to a higher place. This is reincarnation at a social and individual level…

And there I was, smoking a rollie in front of the cathedral, tittering on the edge of that free fall…ohh how I longed to glory in the depths of self agony.

I stood there seeing how we are all in a state of constant self destruction, constant mini deaths. Like strokelettes not of the brain, but of the soul. How we over indulge, drink alcohol in mass social mini deaths, put chemicals inside our bodies, how we attack ourselves mentally, how we don’t keep our bodies fit, how….

Constant mini deaths.

Then my phone rang. It was my friend two meters away, laughing saying “weren’t you looking out? I’ve been here 5 minutes or more.” I said, ditto. and put my phone skilfully into the darkest corner of my bag to enable it impossible to find again next ring tone sounding.

Actually, after I ate a little, I felt a bit better.

Talking it through I came to the conclusion that the only way out, at a first glance, from the circle of mini deaths, is meditation. Absolute peace, no action (which is not the same as not doing anything), observation of life. Which is strange really, cos in comparison to the easiness of falling, falling, falling, meditation, doing nothing, trying to allow yourself not to be just for a moment, really is a hard cookie to crack.

Sunday, 14 October 2007


tonight, like always on a sunday night, i arrived at the open door of the yoga place, puffing like a kangaroo. it's not just the death dash trying to get to somewhere on my bike in minus minutes, jumping up gears to terrorist style crossings of red lights, bullying cars out of the way and general non green cross code man stuff, but it's also the climb up the stairs. Inca galore.

so, comma, hot and sweaty, i go into the meditation hall, seeing all of the relaxed wannabe buddhas, and hitch up my t-shirt. god, or rather, shiva, i've got to get some heat out.

and there you have it. there is nothing more to do, but cross those legs, close the eyes and sit. it is what is more commonly known as meditation. some people confuse sitting with your eyes closed (meditation) with gaining super human powers like such as those sported by experienced gurus, but not at my level. my challenge is being able to just sit down, close my eyes and stopping sweating.

if you really get into it, if you can relax enough concentrating on your breathing in , out, in , out, in , out - your monkey brain stops creating so much pollution. ohh, and then you can really breath nice and long and feel like, after all that mad cycling, viaferrata style stair climb, shoes off and tshirt up, like you've really got to where you were wanting to go to.

like when you have to rush for a train, you've slammed the house door shut, opened it again for that forgotten sandwich, run like buggery, almost screamed without realising "a single trip!" watched the woman who is a slow movement competition and personally in no rush to issue any ticket, and done a 100 meter sprint to the open doors of the train.

once you get in, to your own shock and that of those around you, you've got to where you were going. but really the journey's only just begun...

i started to adjust to sitting and started paying attention to my body. it was still there even though i've not stopped long enough to feel it for some time. and inside, i am still there. that inside glowing feeling that i call me. the eternal me. it's like a flood of relief to be in contact again. like a silently exquisite gentle orgasm as energy is pouring into me from inside me.