What am I?

I have been wondering what is the solution to the mystery of "I"?  How is it that I have this identity and not some other?  How is it that there is someone here that says "I am aware from THIS viewpoint" and is not aware from another, or any other, viewpoint?  How did I choose this viewpoint?

Why is my view of the world so restricted?  And restricted to this particular viewpoint?  The awareness that sees this does not seem to be personal in any way.  It just seems to be there - or should I say, here.  It really does not seem to have any location, it's as though I can tap into this awareness or use it as if it were mine in this very restricted way, but really it does not belong to me any more than the sky above does .

Anyone who likes to think about this and has any similar thoughts is welcome to comment, I would be glad to have your take.

Ramjeet Raghav world's oldest dad at 96 says he has sex three times a night

(Pretty sure I won't break this record)

• From: News Limited Network
• October 17, 2012 1:05PM

The oldest dad in the world Ramjeet Raghav, 96, with his wife Shankuntala, 54, and sons Bikramjeet, 4, and the latest member of their family, baby Ranjeet. Picture: Red Kangaroo Media Source: Supplied

AN INDIAN farmer has become the world's oldest dad aged 96 - beating the record he set himself two years ago.

Ramjeet Raghav was at his wife Shakuntala’s side as second son Ranjeet was born weighing 4lb 7oz, Indian and British media have reported.
The former wrestler had gained the world record in 2010 when Shakuntala , 52, gave birth to Vikramjeet.
Speaking at his home in the state of Haryana, near Delhi, Mr Raghav said: "What can I do? This is all God's wish. He wanted me to have another son."
Mr raghav admits that as proud as he is of having two healthy sons at his age, his neighbours are more jealous of his sex drive, The Daily Mail reports.
"I do it three or four times a night. My neighbours are jealous and they keep asking me for my secret but all I tell them is that it is God's will," he said.
"I'm healthy and I enjoy sex with my wife. I think it's very important for a husband and wife to have sex regularly.
"When she asks I will go on all night but for the sake of my child I've put our needs aside for now."
Mr Raghav told The Tiems of India that he had remained a bachelor and practised celibacy throughout his life until he met Shakuntala about 10 years ago.
"After staying together, we decided to extend our family and aspired for two sons. With God's grace, our wish has been fulfilled."

(from The Australian)

"Shortbread"

Not actually bread.  Very simple and easy

Ingredients enough to fill a ...

Baking tray about 12" x 7"
4 oz sugar (brown or white)
8 oz butter
12 oz flour.

(you can add some cracked wheat to the flour if you like,  to make it coarser and more crunchy)

Mix the sugar and flour in a large bowl

Cut in the butter, when it is soft enough mix the whole thing with your fingers until you get a soft lump

Set the oven to 180deg C, grease the baking tray

With the aid of a sprinkling of flour to prevent sticking, roll it out to about the size of the baking tray, roll it carefully around the rolling pin and deposit it in the tray, trimming the edges and refraining from eating the trimmings - instead, find a place for them in the tray and level the whole thing out with any handy flat object

With a knife mark divisions into the size of chunks you want, prick all over neatly with a fork and bake for

                                          30 - 40 minutes.

Don't let it get too brown. It may be necessary to turn the tray for even cooking.

Without removing from the tray, cut the divisions all through and when cool enough  place a wire rack on top and invert all to deposit the shortbread on the rack.  When cold, eat but not too much, then store the rest in a box out of the reach of dogs and children.  Keeps well if not seen by said dogs and children.

Phone etiquette for kids

When Rose came home last evening she had a story to tell that she kept until we were in bed together.  The neighbour she gave mangoes to, a widow, has a married daughter with a son three years old living with her.  This little boy is a very bright spark.  On a visit with his young mother to a teacher at the local school, his mobile phone rang (yes, he has a mobile phone.)  Answering it, he was heard to say, "Yes Grandma - would you like to speak to Mummy?"

I'm sure my 16 year old son does not have phone etiquette at his fingertips like this (much to my shame.)  I felt somewhat inadequate!

Domestic evenings - bats and fried rice

I took my evening glass of gin and lime outside and sat down by the pond.  One of the little self-lighting, self-powering lanterns hung over the pond was lit already (they light up when it gets dusk and extinguish themselves and drink up sunshine during the day).

My little goldfish pond is where I love to sit, mornings and evenings. It's thickly surrounded on three sides by plants of all kinds.  I had said to Rose last evening, "I haven't seen bats here for a long time" (twenty years ago, when our house was much smaller and no goldfish pond, we used to sit outside on an old coco log I had brought in and watch our cats playing chase among the bushes and scrambling up the ladder to the loft, until the bats came out.)

The rising almost-full moon could be seen through the trees.  Suddenly I saw a bat flashing across the dwarf coconut palm in front.  I called out to Rose, she didn't hear me but anyway in a minute or two she came and joined me with her drink.  I took her hand in mine and pressed it against me, she was responsive and felt friendly and loving.  I told her,     
   "I saw a bat just now!"  
Obligingly,  the same bat, and another, flitted rapidly across the piece of sky we could see.  I was happy to see them.  Rose could see them better than I could.

A moment later, Our teenage son Claude came out and stood near, I told him,
    "We are watching the  bats - can you hear them?" 
    "No", he replied.  I was a bit surprised, but maybe he's already too old at 16.  Or perhaps the bats were just too far away.  When I was ten, I could hear bats clearly, but at 16 - I don't know.

When I saw Claude standing near, I felt such a surge of happiness.  I love all my children, but he is here and is still young and the others are far away.  The last twelve months he has been so wayward, but this seems to have faded somewhat and he's been at home without a break for ten days now, voluntarily feeding our dogs and cats, getting up at 5:30 to do it; working at programming on the computer.  His "friends", that used to be so important to him, have dropped out of sight.  My boy, that used to be "my little lad" with bedtime stories and play before saying goodnight, suddenly four years ago became "my lad" then very soon "my big lad," and is still changing.  When he's at home for dinner, I often open a bottle of wine; but not if he's away.  Wine is to celebrate his presence. Yesterday I said to him, "I like it when you are here, Claude."

Rose went to neighbours to give mangoes (we have mango trees, very prolific), Claude asked to use the computer and I started to make fried rice for supper:  chopped an onion and some garlic, fried them and added cooked rice left over from lunch; chopped some ham slices and added them, shook in some cayenne pepper and seasoning salt, a couple of eggs, a capful of olive oil - a very simple supper.  I covered it and let it cook and meanwhile, to add interest, I chopped up and blanched a carrot (greedy dog Bonnie waited expectantly for the peelings, wagging her tail vigorously),  made a cheese sauce and mixed in the carrot chunks, serving them separately.  This way I get all of us to eat more vegetables.  I looked for cheese powder but couldn't find it so had to make do with grated processed cheese - all we can get here.  While looking in the fridge I did find a bottle of mustard so I squirted some  into the sauce, that improved it.

With everything ready I knocked on the workshop ceiling to tell Claude, then sat down.  Claude appeared, sat down and just in time Rose returned, with a smile and stories from the neighbour's house.

Borrowed these questions from another blogger, this kind of thing goes the rounds from time to time.  I believe you are supposed to stick to one-word answers, but I am disregarding that.


Have you ever...

Been pulled over?
yes, I was driving behind a very slow car that appeared to be full of old folks going on holiday, so I overtook it by crossing the double white line on a bend -  dangerous.  Turned out the car was really full of policemen, and it later caught up with me.

Dyed your hair?
No

Pulled an all-nighter?
Talking with a friend, yes

Baked a cake?
yes

Fallen down in public?
Yes, tangled up with my bike a few days ago.  A considerate passer-by lifted my bike off me so I could get to my feet again.

Been caught making out?
You mean fucking? yes.  By a cop? yes. Had I been that cop I had just kept quiet and watched, it was pretty dark at the time.  I think he was a newbie and too concerned with doing his duty.

Taken a pregnancy test?
Not this time round

Broken a bone?
No.

Had braces?
Those things that hold up your trousers? yes.  For my teeth? No

Gone skinny dipping?
yes.  Local pool had clothes-optional nights.

Built something out of wood?
Many things - boats mainly, but furniture, harpsichords, guitars, other musical instruments.

Been to Disneyland?
no    

Eaten a Krispy Kreme donut?
Don't know what that is, but I guess not

Screamed during a scary movie?
No.  I never watch such stuff now.  I hate suspense.  My mother took me to some pantomime when I was little and I was scared, she had to take me out.  I never stay in a movie if I don't like it, no matter how much the ticket cost.

Showered with someone of the opposite sex?
yes, she gave off female electricity, soft and insidious.

Been to a professional sporting event?
County cricket, does that count?  Dead boring.

Slept till noon?
Only when sick.  I dislike sleeping late.

Been arrested?
No

Opened Christmas presents early?
no, but actually I am the kind of sly person who might do that - and then wrap them up again so hopefully no-one would know.

Played Scrabble?
yes. World's most boring game.

Rolled down a hill?
yes, unintentionally while sledging

Toilet papered someone's house?
Eh??

Laughed so hard you cried?
No.

Burned yourself with a curling iron?
I have never thought of using one.  Nowadays it's not male fashion.

Been hit on by someone too young?
I wish. Teenage girls are yummy.  None is too young for me, if she is interested.  Though in fact a young but fat girl, about seventeen I guess, serving in Max's vegetable store did say to me the other day, quietly in my ear, "I need someone like you!" But later tried to retract that.

Gotten seasick?
No

Eaten food that fell on the floor?
Got to eat a peck of dirt before you die, I was told when young.  I'm not fastidious with food.

Given a hickey?
Probably.

Shared a sucker with your dog?
I love my dogs, but no

Been in an accident?
yes, but not serious.

Had chickenpox?
yes. At boarding school and it was quite fun

Shopped at Home Depot?
What's Home Depot?  (All right, I can guess.)

Spied on your neighbors?
yes but they don't seem to get up to anything interesting, from what I have seen so far.  Living in hope.

Plucked your eyebrows?
yuck

Ridden in a limo?
no

Had a pet fish?
yes, many.  We had some pretty Koi but Rose was given a fish found in the river and she put it in the pond with them, where it killed all our other fish and then laid thousands of predator eggs, we still haven't recovered.

Lied about your age?
Don't think so.

Bought something at a yard sale?
Yard sale?  Don't know that term, but I have bought stuff at sales to raise cash for some good cause.

Fired a gun?
Am a crack shot with a rifle, one of the few things I can do well, but useless unfortunately.  Or perhaps it's just fortunate I never had to use the skill in desperate circumstances.  I could be a sniper in the service of some anxious dictator, I suppose.

Been drunk?
A little, but not seriously

Had a cavity?
too many

Been ice skating?
No

Handed out candy to trick-or-treaters?
No, no one has ever asked me.

Been in the hospital?
yes. hernia repair.

Made a prank call?
No, boring idea.

Been sick on your birthday?
don't think so

Gotten a tattoo?
No but I do like them on women, if I was a female I probably would.

Had food come out your nose?
Sneezed with a mouth full, I seem to remember

Gone out without underwear?
I think so;  and I have walked the streets dressed only in underpants on a very hot summer's day.

Had a massage?
Not a professional one, otherwise yes.  In fact I took a massage course years ago, that was my first experience of putting my hands on a female body without further expectations.  I was struck by the hissing sound of my hands sliding firmly over her back - kind of electrical.  Every female body has a unique feel, I discovered.

Locked your keys in the car?
Probably, it's the kind of thing I would do

Ridden a horse?
yes but didn't take to horses.

Been lost?
yes, when I was a little boy.  Having recovered me, my mother told me to pray in such cases, but I have since learned that that is just wishful thinking.  My mother was like that, and it did her no good. Much better to keep your eyes open, look around carefully, make a plan and avoid panic.

Held a $100 bill?
It so happens that my answer is yes, but it's not my usual currency

Been to Europe?
yes.  Grew up there.  But not there now.

Built a fire?
Many times

Slept Naked?
Always do

Been skydiving?
no

Hogged the covers on purpose?
Not on purpose, no

Played golf?
I tried - borrowed my tutor's golf clubs and succeeded in putting a ball through a window in the girls' blocks.  The ball travels amazingly far and fast if you happen to hit it right, which is difficult.

Watched the Weather Channel?
No weather channel here

Had a manicure?
yes, and the girl who did it put clear varnish on my toenails.  I had the devil of a job trying to remove it.

Made mashed potatoes?
yes.

Written your phone number on a napkin?
No

Been to the circus?
yes, When young.

Aren't females so delicious!

Specially for Rachel

Aren't females so delicious!  Acceptance, flexibility, softness ...

Everything

"Life is not a task. There is absolutely nothing to attain except the realisation that there is absolutely nothing to attain."

So says Tony Parsons.  I believe him.  Or at least, I want to ...   but believing is not enough.  Or rather, it is too much, a surplus, unnecessary. I don't seem to be able to help believing him, though.

"There is absolutely nothing to attain  ..."  Hell's bells, if this is really true, why am I worrying about my wayward teenage son drinking brandy with friends???

 Here is more of Tony's stuff from "The Open Secret:"  (my italics)

There is nothing apart from the boundless everything and yet, because it is free, it can appear to be separate from itself . . . it can appear to be the story of me. There is nothing right or wrong in that appearance which is wholeness apparently happening.
Contracted energy seems to arise in the human being and create a sense of separation out of which arises a unique sense of identity . . . a self consciousness. The me is born and the story of me seems to begin. Me is the story and the story is me and one cannot exist without the other. They both only appear and function in a dualistic subject object reality. Everything seems to be personally experienced as a series of events in real time happening to a real me. Within that story time, journey, purpose and free will and choice seem to be real.
This sense of separation is not just an idea, a thought or a belief. It is a contracted energy embodied in the whole organism which influences every experience. As a consequence the me experiences a tree, the sky, another person, a thought or a feeling through a veil of separation. It is as though me is a something and everything else is lots of other separate somethings happening to me. What arises from this once removed sense is a subtle feeling of dissatisfaction. A feeling that something is lost or hidden.
For most people this sense of dissatisfaction is not that apparent, and because they believe they are individuals with free will and choice they seem motivated to try and create a successful story . . . good relationships, good health, wealth, personal power or whatever else.
However, for some there is a greater sensitivity about something else that seems to be missing. This feeling generates a longing for a deeper sense of fulfilment. There can be an investigation into religion, therapy or the meaning of enlightenment. Because the me has become convinced that it has the means to influence its story, it also assumes that it can find deeper fulfilment through its own choice, determination and action.
The me may, for instance, go to a priest or a therapist or a teacher of enlightenment in order to find what it thinks it needs.
Often because the me feels it has lost something, there can be a sense of inadequacy and so what is pursued is a teaching that satisfies the need to do something which will bring about a personal transformation and make the me worthy of fulfilment. All of this activity is apparently happening within the story of me which is functioning in an artificially dualistic reality. So me is searching in the finite for that which is infinite. It is a something looking for another something, and what it really longs for remains unobtainable by already being everything. It is rather like trying to catch air with a butterfly net. It isn’t difficult, it is wonderfully impossible. The essential futility of that searching inevitably fuels the sense of a me who feels even more unworthy and separate.
However, in the seeking activity there can be experiences along the way that encourage the me to search further and try harder. Personal therapy can bring a transient sense of personal balance in the story. Practices like meditation can bring a state of peace or silence. Self enquiry can bring an apparently progressive experience of understanding and strengthened awareness. But for awareness to function it needs something apart for it to be aware of. Awareness simply feeds separation, and a state of detachment can arise and be mistaken for enlightenment. All of these states come and go within the story of me.
The basis of all teaching of becoming enlightened is the idea that a change of belief or experience can lead to a personal knowing of oneness, self realisation or of discovering your own true nature. The whole investment in a progressive path goes on feeding the story of me attaining something. Even the suggestion of personal surrender or acceptance can be initially attractive and bring a satisfying state . . . for a while. There are many so-called non-dual 'teachings' which feed the story of me becoming liberated.
However, the oneness that is longed for is boundless and free. It cannot be grasped or even approached. Nor is there anything that would need to be done or changed or made better than that which is already everything.
The me experience can be very convincing because “the world” it lives in seems to be dominated by lots of me’s in lots of stories. But the me construct is inconstant and has no foundation. All of the me story is only a dance of wholeness which is without significance or purpose.

Imagination test

After reading Cande's blog and watching the video she liked, I am posting one here of quite a different sort, one of my favourite amateur sex vids.  Admittedly it's not High Definition, but it's a real-life happening - that's what I like about it.  They are not acting, they are enjoying their sexual connection for its own sake.  By the way, set your aspect ratio to 16:9 for best results. If you  are using VLC player with the file downloaded (recommended) the adjustment can be made under the "video" tab.

In case the embedded clip doesn't work quite right, here is a link to my copy of this file.

I have a good collection of amateur sex videos and like to watch them with my wife.  She won't say she's turned on by them, but when I feel between her legs, it's another story, so I don't argue.

I am happy to post more of this kind if readers like it.

I took this personality test:

I'm a O47-C30-E5-A50-N49 Big Five!!

your choice?

Plotinus, mystic and philosopher, said this:

"no man of intelligence will venture to express his philosophical views in language, especially not in language that is unchangeable, which is true of that which is set down in written characters."
(quoted from Hines, Brian (2009-01-01). 'Return to the One',  Adrasteia Publishing.)

Nevertheless, I am ignoring his advice (or perhaps I am not a man of intelligence?  It can be said that a blog is not so unchangeable as writing on paper, though.)

Do we have a choice of what to do in any situation?  Can we decide, freely, taking into account all relevant circumstances, what to have for dinner?

I believe it is well established that our idea of ourselves as individuals is an illusion, best got rid of.  Those who have apparently succeeded in getting rid of it, or who have involuntarily found themselves free of it - as sometimes happens, or perhaps we should say, as is really always the case - are living far happier, more carefree lives than the vast majority of us still saddled with a "personality."

Let's assume it's true that individual personality is an illusion.  If there is no individual, there can be no choices, since to make a choice there must be an individual to make it.

It follows that if we are not really individuals, there is no such thing as free will.  You never decided what to have for dinner or which school your child should go to: it just happened.

Those who have discovered that they don't exist as individuals seem to be saying this, too: life is not your choice, and never can be.  It just happens.  It doesn't happen to you, since there is no "you" to happen to.  It just only ... happens.

What we are (not?)

Excerpt from "Church of the Churchless"

Quoted from Guy Newland's "Introduction to Emptinesss."

"We suffer unnecessarily because we do not know ourselves. Like addicts fiercely clinging to a drug, we cannot let go of the sense that we are substantial, solid, independent, and autonomous.

...To be real, to be alive, we feel that we must deep down somehow exist in a solid and independent way. Death tells us a very different story, but for that very reason we find a million ways to avoid hearing the message of death.

That message is that we are impermanent. Our bodies are disintegrating moment by moment, right now. And though we desperately wish to believe otherwise, the truth is that beneath our ever-changing minds and aging bodies there is no eternal and essential self. We have no natural existence, no independent way of existing.

We exist contingently, interdependently. We exist, but only in dependence on our ancestors, our body parts, our food, air, and water, and the other members of our society. We could not and do not exist otherwise. Devoid of any independent or substantial nature, our existence is possible only because it is far less rigid, less concrete, than what we imagine it to be.

Rather than seeing things as they are, we superimpose upon ourselves -- and on things around us -- a false existence, a self-existence or essential reality that actually does not exist at all. In the Buddhist philosophy explained here, the ultimate truth is the sheer absence, the lack, of any such essence.

       This is emptiness

While this may sound bleak, disappointing, or frightening, it is the very nature of reality. And it is reality -- not fantasy -- that is our final hope and our refuge. The path to freedom from needless misery, for ourselves and others, is through profound realization of this fundamental reality."

By and large, I think Newland and Buddhism (Mahayana variety) have it right. Emptiness, in the Buddhist sense, is wonderfully compatible with modern science, including modern neuroscience. There's no enduring self to be found within the brain.
Nor outside of it, notwithstanding the widespread religious belief in an ethereal soul which somehow floats around independent of body and mind, while also somehow being intimately connected with them as a source of life and consciousness.
Of course, I could be wrong. Buddhism could be wrong. Guy Newland could be wrong. This is the way of science: uncertain, open to new evidence, provisional.
Heck, even The Onion could be wrong, as shocking as that sounds. I bet, though, that "Search for Self Called Off After 38 Years"Search for Self Called Off After 38 Years" is much closer to ultimate truth than the teaching of any religion is.

CHICAGO—The longtime search for self conducted by area man Andrew Speth was called off this week, the 38-year-old said Monday. 

"I always thought that if I kept searching and exploring, I'd discover who I truly was," said Speth from his Wrigleyville efficiency. "Well, I looked deep into the innermost recesses of my soul, I plumbed the depths of my subconscious, and you know what I found? An empty, windowless room the size of an aircraft hangar. From now on, if anybody needs me, I'll be sprawled out on this couch drinking black-cherry soda and watching Law & Order like everybody else."

"Fuck it," he added.

My sentiments exactly. Except I prefer to drink strong coffee, or red wine, and watch Survivor or So You Think You Can Dance. (See my related blog posts here and here.)"