Home made amusement

Yesterday I took our picture calendar off the wall to look at the pictures.  I started putting it back but carelessly the picture side was facing the wall.
At this my wife began to laugh.  Nothing amuses her more than watching me make silly mistakes, hearing about silly mistakes I have made, like filling my basket at the supermarket and reaching the cashier's desk finding I have no money with me.  This  kind of thing sends her into fits of hysterical laughter.  She is waiting, and hoping, for the time when I start off to walk to the town having forgotten to put on my pants.
Anyway when I realised what I was doing with the calendar I started laughing too.  I decided to give my wife a good hard smack or two.  It's a thing I do sometimes, especially at moments like this.  She was wearing very short, tightly fitting, thin shorts clearly showing every curve and valley, so a hard smack would land well and feel good.  The first one didn't land right so I pulled her towards me, both of us convulsed with laughter, and gave her two more as hard as I could.  Through the laughter, clinging perversely to me and getting the words out with difficulty, she always tries to say that I am the one who should get spanked, but I always reply that when I make a mistake, she must be the one to get spanked. That makes us both laugh even more.  I have a sore hand, she has a sore arse.  That's married life!

Accepting what is.

Recently I've realised that to wish something was other than it is is worse than useless.  By all means plan to change it (or leave it as it is); but don't waste any thought on regretting it.

My 15 year old son has taken to smoking.  At first, I was dismayed; but then I realised that if I cannot control that, there's no point in anything except acceptance.  Whatever he does, or doesn't do, I will still love him, so why spend time regretting?

I recently read the first volume of my father's diaries, which he kept almost without a break throughout his life.  At the age of fifteen, he enjoyed smoking and his father was not against it, in fact even sent him a box of cigars for his birthday while he was away at boarding school. As far as I know, smoking had no bad effects on him.

Arguing with reality.

When you argue with reality, you lose.

The Silver Swan

The silver swan, who living had no note,
When death approached, unlocked her silent throat;
Leaning her breast against the reedy shore
Thus sung her first and last, and sung no more:
Farewell all joys!  O death, come close mine eyes;
More geese than swans now live, more fools than wise.

The Cloud

With thanks to Darryl Bailey, Dismantling the Fantasy
Once upon a time, a group of friends lay on a hillside watching a cloud. They had become fascinated with its appearance while walking in the country. It was a marvellous cloud, massive and surging, one moment appearing to be a house and the next a bevy of balloons. In turn there were forests and cities, animals and people, comings and goings, no end of activity.

As it so happened, an old man, a stranger, was wandering close by. When the group of friends saw him, they cried out in their excitement,

Old man, come join us! Come watch this cloud!

After hurried introductions and the shifting of bodies, he took his place within the group.

The afternoon passed pleasantly as the cloud continued to surprise. There were soldiers at war and children at play. There were creatures of the wild: birds, mammals, and fish, as well as beasts of work and burden. There was a mother and her child. There were the many scenes of life: birth, death, sickness, youth and old age. There were lovers and fighters, friends and enemies, the interaction of groups, and single, poignant portraits.
Time wore on, the afternoon dwindled, and eventually the old man stood to leave. He thanked his new friends and made his goodbyes, but hesitated, looking at the gathering.

May I ask you a question?

Of course, they replied, in their various ways.

Were you at all concerned for those we saw this afternoon?
 
Who?  they asked.
 
The figures we saw in the cloud:  the soldiers, the animals, the children.
The friends looked at each other, perplexed.

One answered, Old man, there were no people, no animals; there was only the cloud.
The others nodded in agreement.
 
How do you know that? 

How do we know what?
 
How do you know there was only the cloud? 

It’s obvious, anyone  can see it.
 
See what?
 
There is only the cloud; it’s still there.
 
What about the forms we saw?
 
There were no forms; there is only the cloud and it has no particular form.
 
How do you know that? 

Just look, and  you can see it.
 
What do you see?
 
There are no forms there.
 
How do you know that?
 
Because they’re always changing. No form is ever really there; whatever form you think you see is always  altering, rearranging in some way.
 
How do you know that?
 
Just look! That’s all you have to do.
 
There were no soldiers, no animals, no children? 

No. It may have seemed like that, but there was only the cloud.
 
There were no soldiers deciding to fight, no lovers deciding to love?
 
How could those false appearances decide to do anything? There is only the movement of the cloud.
 
So the cloud decides to move?
 
No. The cloud does not decide to move. It has no form. It simply moves. That’s its nature.
 
How do you know that?
 
Have you ever seen a cloud that stopped changing?  Every aspect of it is shifting in some way. It doesn’t decide to do it; it’s on automatic. The movement simply happens.
 
There were no people?  There was no birth and death?
 
Birth and death of what? There is only the cloud. It seems like many forms coming and going, but it’s always only the unformed cloud.
 
And no one is deciding to do anything?
 
No. The forms that appear to be there are not really there, because each one is altering in some way and eventually disappears. There is simply action or motion. The forms are not the reality; they are false appearances. There is only movement, a streaming that has no particular form.
 
But the lovers who moved  closer together …?
 
There were no lovers, no soldiers, no animals. There is only the cloud.
 
The old man pondered this slowly.
 
There were no forms there?  No decisions to act?  No birth and death?
 
That’s right! said the friends, thinking they had finally gotten through to him.
 
But how do you know that for certain?
 
Just watch!  The forms that you see are changing all the time. They never stop. No particular form is ever really there. If you had to describe a cloud, you wouldn’t say it looked like a horse or a soldier. That wouldn’t give you a true sense of the cloud. A cloud is constantly changing.  The appearance of form is not the reality. The altering is. That’s the basic fact. There is no coming or going, no birth or death, no decisions being made, no matter how much it seems like that. There is only motion. Anyone can see that if they watch it long enough.
The old man considered this carefully.
 
You’re absolutely certain?
 
Yes! We’re absolutely certain.
And you can tell all of this from seeing this constant change, this motion, this dynamic?
 
Yes.

The old man contemplated this.

May I ask another question?
The friends remained silent, waiting.

Are you actually people?
 
What are you talking about? Of course we’re people.
 
But you’re changing.
 
What?
 
Everything you are – your bodies, thoughts, emotions, interests, urges, desires, capacities, decisions, focuses, ideas, activities – in fact, more than just you, all things that you know of.
 
What about them?
 
They’re constantly changing.
Yes, sighed the members of the group, they’re changing.
 
Do you change them?
 
No, old man, they simply ...
The friends stood staring at him, their minds racing, exploding to find some other response.
He gazed back at them. They looked.
He looked.
For what seemed to be a very, very, long time. Then he smiled, turned, and wandered away.

Suzanne Foxton's story

Suzanne's blog is at http://www.nothingexistsdespiteappearances.blogspot.com/

Here is her story as told to Renate McNay.  Actually, as she says, there is no "story".

More on our non-existence.

Further to my last post in which I quoted Pir Vilayat Khan (1916 - 2004) as saying that "The assumption of being an individual is our greatest limitation," here is some amplification of this statement, from writing by David Carse:

 "There is physical functioning and there is mental functioning. Physical functioning is experienced as bodily activity of various kinds. Mental functioning is experienced as thoughts and mental activity. And it is because of these activities, what the Buddhist tradition calls the skandhas, the thought processes, sensory perceptions, and so on, the functioning of the body/mind organism, that there is an assumption made that there is something, someone, here doing these things. But that’s an unfounded assumption. To perceive that the skandhas are empty of an individual self doing them, is to awaken. All there is, is Consciousness."

 Pir Vilayat Khan was a Sufi (Islam), David Carse is expounding the ancient Indian teachings of Advaita (meaning "Not two") and quoting Buddhist teachings as well.

No-one has actually yet shown that an individuality exists.  It's assumed, that's all.  It seems obvious; but questioning what seems obvious is the way to find out something new, to make a discovery.  At one time, it was obvious to most people that the Earth was flat and the centre around which Sun, Moon and planets revolved (although I have to admit this was not what much older civilisations, such as the Sumerians, thought).  It took Copernicus to dislodge this erroneous view.