A kind of closure

Appalling dreams all night: one in which everything was blurry so that nothing in the dream could be clearly seen. Never had that one before, and frankly I don't want it again. I am very stressed at the moment, and my dreams are reflecting this. The obvious reading of the dream is there are situations in my life that I cannot properly see yet.

Things settled down over a breakfast of tea and buttered crumpets with Mum and Mase. Mase suggested I should write a list, and I began to create an elaborate anxiety mindmap (complete with drawings) on the tube, which I was rather enjoying. But when I reached Baker Street the police called me to confirm that the guy who'd knocked suspiciously on my door a few weeks ago was also my burglar. This made me feel better right away.

The thief was a Polish guy called Christian, as he told me at the time. He was collared 40 minutes later breaking in somewhere else. The DNA matches the gore in my house, and he is pleading guilty on Wednesday. It may be that I get some criminal compensation -- i.e. some cash.

I feel quite sorry for him apart, that is, from wanting to punch his head over the fact that he stole so much of my work. It does help my feelings of closure knowing I contributed to his arrest. He has broken in lots of other places too.

Into the office today. Felt a bit tetchy, but work mercifully quiet for the first time in weeks, allowing me to leave for home on time and listen to Lord of the Rings and play Zuma on the train going home to Brighton like an automaton.

Getting visitors to this blog from a Buddhist forum in a discussion about Sogyal Rinpoche - apparently there was a report in the Guardian that he was sued for $10 million in the United States by a woman who alleges sexual harassment, coercion and abuse back in 1995. This was news to me, but have no idea if the allegation was proved.

I thought he was a very interesting and charismatic man, when I went to the retreat in June 16-18th, and I am much more interested in Buddhism than in personalities. The only dissonant note for me, however, when he appeared to humiliate a female Australian monk who was serving him. She had got some matter of administration wrong. Nobody seemed to bat an eyelid, and I'm still not sure if it was me not understanding the protocol, but it did introduce a worm of doubt.

Being so adored must be quite a challenge. People must project all kinds of things on you (like perhaps the humiliation of a monk).

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