“In sooth to every man that’s born A hatchet grows within his mouth Wherewith the fool whene’er he speaks And speaks amiss, doth cut himself.”
– AN 10
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Went to Chinatown looking for pocket watches today, picked up two nice gold-plated Bulova watches, should make nice monk presents. Also picked up four tenants for the night… tomorrow to free them in a lake somewhere. They came in these little tacky plastic boxes and were frantically trying to escape to something a little [...] So, let’s see… the Internet went down this weekend, that’s why I’ve been out of touch… oh, and the fact that I spent last night in a jail cell on charges of indecent exposure… but I suppose that’s just par for the course at this point. I went to the beach yesterday; actually, I never set foot on the beach… I went back to this nifty meditation spot I had found on Sunday, about 1/2 km from the beach, just behind the sand dunes. Here’s some pictures: Here’s the rest of my silly story. I promise to be less silly in future posts. Day Three The third day started like any other at Khun Bpang – cold, painful, swollen, warm-ish, in that order. Only this time, my monkish friend and I had hot food together for our first real meal. The sensual pleasure of monk curry has never been so prominent; given the nature of monk curry, this is easily understandable. Monk curry means taking everything in one’s almsbowl and mixing it in one big pot with water. Stir, boil, eat. But it was hot and we were cold, and so we enjoyed it mindfully (i.e. we enjoyed it, but pretended to be mindful at the same time). After food, he packed up and continued on his way to Viang Bpa Bpao, a mysterious place the location of which is best described as “over yonder”. I bade him well and prepared myself for a little more serious effort at meditation practice. Continue reading Completely Incompetent – The Hill Diaries (Cont.) |
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