Back to the Buddha
I have booked a holiday to Guernsey, where I can spiritually and physically recharge - and will be zooming off in a couple of weeks. Mum will come with me for part of the holiday too. Her first break since finishing chemotherapy. Lorraine will also come for a few days later on. I'll also take my laptop and work on my Skelton Yawngrave story while I'm there too. Among other things I need to reboot exercise and meditation.
Lorraine's son Sam will cat sit, which is handy. Although he may have his hands full. Calliope was in trying mode today: waking me up hideously early, scratching for half an hour at the door until let in again, falling into the bath, attacking my feet while I am half asleep. While I was out she festooned the stairs with lengths of shredded toilet roll from the bathroom, and complained bitterly about her gourmet food.
At work Betsy taught me two new words today; fauxhawk, which is a haircut a bit like a Mohican (aka a Mohawk in the US). And "de- friending" for falling out with someone. She and I went to Plum for lunch again.
To never smile is a very strange thing, and there is an positive masterclass in not smiling going on in there. They are from East Europe I think, and it may be a cultural thing that I don't understand.
Reading again The Tibetan Book of Living and Dying by Sogyal Rinpoche. Chapters about the acceptance of death (for example In the mirror of death) certainly make for a bracing read on the train. Buddhism is the only code of belief that makes any sense to me these days, and this is a wonderful book.
I have booked a holiday to Guernsey, where I can spiritually and physically recharge - and will be zooming off in a couple of weeks. Mum will come with me for part of the holiday too. Her first break since finishing chemotherapy. Lorraine will also come for a few days later on. I'll also take my laptop and work on my Skelton Yawngrave story while I'm there too. Among other things I need to reboot exercise and meditation.
Lorraine's son Sam will cat sit, which is handy. Although he may have his hands full. Calliope was in trying mode today: waking me up hideously early, scratching for half an hour at the door until let in again, falling into the bath, attacking my feet while I am half asleep. While I was out she festooned the stairs with lengths of shredded toilet roll from the bathroom, and complained bitterly about her gourmet food.
At work Betsy taught me two new words today; fauxhawk, which is a haircut a bit like a Mohican (aka a Mohawk in the US). And "de- friending" for falling out with someone. She and I went to Plum for lunch again.
To never smile is a very strange thing, and there is an positive masterclass in not smiling going on in there. They are from East Europe I think, and it may be a cultural thing that I don't understand.
Reading again The Tibetan Book of Living and Dying by Sogyal Rinpoche. Chapters about the acceptance of death (for example In the mirror of death) certainly make for a bracing read on the train. Buddhism is the only code of belief that makes any sense to me these days, and this is a wonderful book.
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