FEATURE 27 _ Bonnie Tyler Parody

I wont even try and describe this, its just hilariously funny - Watch and enjoy.

FEATURE - Florence & the Machine

From the moment I heard 'Kiss with a Fist' you knew this woman had something interesting to say. On that early release a trifle punky in image, she sounded like a ballsy reincarnation of Chrissy Hinde. Though I'm sure Chrissy would never be seen in striped leggings and such a short short skirt. She appears to be developing a style now, more akin to Kate Bush as an elfin hippy,garbed in gosamer thin dresses wafting around like an Alice in woodland, doing erotic pagan rituals. All the same 'Dog Days' is a wacky and wonderful track that builds up a crazy whirlwind. Unfortunately the embed for the video on U Tube has been removed, so you'll have to imagine the visuals from the audio. For once here is someone who appears to live up to their hype.

PRACTICE 3 - Delving Into Devotion

Buddhist devotional practices are diverse in form, though the intention always remains the same - to cultivate receptivity and openness to the sublime in reality. Whether we call it Nirvana - Buddha Nature or Enlightenment matters not, these are really just different 'brand names' for the same thing - a state of liberation from conditioned existence. For Westerners, to fully surrender to devotional impulses is not easy, it often has uncomfortable associations, because it too closely reminds us of Christian image worship, of a supreme Godhead. There are many representational forms of the Buddha, and extravagant portrayals of archetypal Bodhisattva's. To the outside uninformed observer a Buddhist lighting incense and prostrating themselves before such images, can look like we are worshipping them as Gods. But there is no Godhead in Buddhism, and what gods there are, are prefaced by a lower case, rather than a capital G. Mostly the gods and goddesses come to worship and bow down before the Buddhas and Bodhisattva's to honour and praise their achievement's, not demand it for themselves.

Buddhist worship is a mixture of reverence - for the Buddha's achievement - and aspiration - for ourselves to do likewise. I was reflecting on this whilst I was on the retreat 'Entering The Mythic Realm.' It struck me that most of the time we were operating in either of two modes - a mode of evocation - or a mode of invocation. We were either attempting to evoke higher meditative states, a fuller sense of Going for Refuge, or we were trying to invoke the Buddha's & Bodhisattva's to be present and witness our Going for Refuge. By the end of the retreat I'd come to the conclusion these two modes were coterminous, almost to the point of indivisibility. When we do anything that brings our own Going for Refuge to the Buddha, Dharma and Sangha more vividly to life, it simultaneously brings the Buddhas & Bodhisattva's more vividly present too. They appear like moths around the flame of our sraddha, to witness, bless and encourage our endeavours. We don't need to do anything more than practice effectively and wholeheartedly.


Sraddha is an indivisible response of body, speech and mind, integrated and focused on awakening. Sangharakshita describes sraddha as a response of ' what is ultimate in us to what is ultimate in the Universe'. Sraddha (faith is a poor comparison) is the driving energy, the fuel on the motorcade of devotion. This is neither a neat, logical or completely graspable thing, if it were, it would be a still born experience. Which is why its not always easy to just tap into our sraddha at will, though devotional practice can be a help, sometimes. However, there are times when it just will not be evoked, when our internal or external conditions just get in the damned way. I am quite a passionate emotional person, and even though I see myself as a 'faith type,' for some reason my devotional practice has previously been bedeviled by personal reservation's and petty resistances. I've tended to hold myself back from responding to the sudden inspirational impulse, the instinct for what I need to do is thus inhibited. On this retreat I began to stop stifling these impulses. I think my reservation's were disguised forms of doubt about whether the practices work, or perhaps fear that if I gave myself fully to them, they would. Puja and prostrations only work if you do give yourself to them, surrender fully and don't hold back.

There was a brief moment during the worship section of a Sevenfold Puja, when we were circumambulating the stupa. Instead of mindfully kneeling, bowing and offering incense, I began falling instantly to my knees. At one point I dropped so rapidly to my knees, that as they touched the ground, for a moment I was in a state of devotional confusion, I wasn't sure exactly what it was I was supposed to do once I got down there. Regaining my composure, I fumbled my anjali mudra together, bowed and got up. For that one moment I'd given up trying to control my every action and inspiration, I just surrendered into the feeling of that moment.

What I learnt, and it seems an obvious thing to state, is that for a sense of devotion to be evoked, I need to find a way to express this physically. Not just physically, but also using my imagination - my mind needs to be engaged visualising the content of the words of a puja and prostrations. Those words themselves need to be meaningful, poetic and evocative in order to lure my emotions into engagement. If all of these three things combine, devotional practice becomes something much greater than its individual constituent parts. If devotion is an indivisible action of body, speech and mind, to stir the desire for awakening, then one of these three on their own will not be enough.

DIARY 109 - Becoming attuned to mysterious things

I returned recently from the retreat at Padmaloka called 'Entering the Mythic Realm', and now feel well engaged with the less logical, and therefore intangible aspects of my self in devotional mode. After some years of feeling not quite as open hearted in my connections Puja and Prostration Practice as I would have liked, I think I finally discovered some ways around my resistences and reservations. It's not easy to fully convey the effect of this retreat upon me by just literally describing what we did in words. I'll probable attempt to write more specifically about changes in my devotional practice later. I took along a note book and wrote in it most days. The deeper my engagement with the retreat went, the more my desire to put it all down on paper diminished. I found that I could only get a clearer sense of how my unconscious depths were responding by writing in a semi-automatic fashion, sometimes it came out as poetry, sometimes as prose. So here are a few selected highlights.

In the fertile valley, I feel impoverished.

At the foot of a mountain, I lack height.

I look at the barreness of reality,

I look, and I look, and in that looking,

I gaze empty headed, and empty eyed,

seeing only the prickliness in a peach.

27/06/09

Given time, a hand is useful.

Locked digits, aged and worn,

loosen with the lubrication of action.

Given time, a heart also races.

28/06/09

Wise men at the door,

begging - as usual,

not for gold, silver or rubies

but just to come in.

29/06/09

The months fly on like geese from a field,

noisily, then out of hearing.

30/06/09

Where nothing is,

is my reflection.

That is where the problem is,

is in my reflection,

and in this response is the is,

is that it?

or am I making is

a more complicated thing than it is?

04/07/09

Given time and space

nothing happens

more frequently

than one would imagine.

05/07/09

FEATURE 28 - Linton Kwesi Johnson

It being the 50th Anniversary of the founding of Island Records they've re-released a number of their most significant albums. So I've already picked up Marianne Faithfull - Broken English for a fiver. Last week it was Linton Kwesi Johnson's - Forces of Victory. Similar to John Cooper Clarke, Linton Kwesi Johnson's career seemed to blossom so fully in the mid-eighties, and was so much identifited with that era, that he's done precious little since. This album along with Dread, Beat & Blood, was such a politicised peach, a real product of its era, of recession, SUS laws, and rising National Front activism. Nothing much has changed, only the names we call things by, so this record still seems painfully relevant to me. Forceful words here are toasted over equally forceful music, characterised by a subtle, well rounded dub sound, engineered by Dennis Bovell. It's hard to not want to pick all of these tracks out as highlights, but my personal favourites are - Sonny's Letter - Independent Intavension & Fite Dem Back - with its catchy, but disturbing football style chant -' smash their brains in, cos they aint got nothing in em'. He still performs from time to time apparently, but his recorded output has all but ceased.

DIARY 108 - Fortuitous Times

108 is considered in Buddhism, via a sort of reverse logic, a rather fortuitous number. It's said to be the number of defilement's that have to be overcome before one can become Enlightened. One must assume then that its fortuitous because there are considered to be so few. Irrespective of this fact, this is my 108th Diary entry. Regardless of how few, or many, of the defilement's I've managed to further entangle myself with whilst writing this blog - I've been devoted to it for some time. The blog sphere itself might be considered a contemporary defilement - built as it is on ego,pride and self aggrandisement. Whether anyone else is really that interested in the neurotic twitterings of a fifty something gay Buddhist, I obviously still flatter myself by believing that somebody might be, apart from me that is. So I continue to web-ramble.

Anyway, this is by the by. Fortuitous news arrived last week in the form of David's Public Ordination, and his new Buddhist name - Jnanashalin (pronounced KneeYah-Na-Shah-Lin) This means 'he who is distinguished for knowledge', which like all such names recognises a distinguishing characteristic, whilst also giving one a challenge to live up to, if not exceed it - mostly by becoming Enlightened I expect. Jnanashalin apparently, after a little unease, does like his new name. I know it was quite an area for nervousness for him, would he like his name? Well I do, and obviously I'm well pleased, and proud of him for having taken this great step in his life. There is quite a bit of adjusting for me too, and this is not just limited to the spell checker on my computer wanting to change Jnanashalin to 'cannonballing'. I'm still having to make a very conscious effort to use his name, with often a microseconds time delay whilst I stop myself saying David and replace it with Jnanashalin. The turn around is getting quicker,though occasionally I refer to him during conversations, and I'm suddenly gripped by uncertainty - did I say David or not just then? It's not just the name, but also a marked change in one aspect of how I relate to him - as we are both now members of the same Western Buddhist Order, with all its eccentricities, virtues and flaws. Well, his return is a little over a month away, so I'll find out soon enough how it feels for him. It's all quite exciting.

Since my last posting I've at last moved on from managing Windhorse Customer Services. It feels such a great relief. My new temporary post in the Property Team, is suiting me much much better, and I'm quite looking forward to going into work once more. I don't have quite the breadth of experience and practical skills of some of the team, but I can helpfully contribute in specific areas of detail and decorating. This is only a brief two month secondment, whilst two guys from that team are away getting ordained. Once they return in August, I too will move on to the delights and rhythms of Warehouse work. This last weekend, I was up in Sheffield as part of a team re-painting one of our shops there. I think it went relatively smoothly. It was the first real test of how my back would hold up over three twelve hour working days consecutively. The answer is quite well. My usual lower left back ache I hardly felt. My back felt tired or sore, ached in an understandable way, but not painfully so. So that proves the effectiveness of three months of my back exercise regime.


The only down point of the Sheffield weekend, was the B & B, which was above a gastro Pub, which on the first evening had late night opening i.e beyond midnight. I got precious little or no sleep. There were numerous loud half cut conversations of smokers, or people waiting for a taxi, on the outside pavement, or fellow B&B residents singing the same chanting refrain over and over at half past three in the morning. The room itself was quite well decorated, but with no en-suite. The toilet and showers, however, were outside my room, and combined with the laminate flooring in the corridor there was almost a perpetual echo of platter, clatter and natter along to it. Every time I was on the edge of dropping off, there would be the loud creak of a door opening, and a bare footed waddle and slapping noise along the floor, a discernible peeing noise, and the noises in reverse, concluding with a turning of a latch. Lying there kept constantly awake by all this noise from the thoroughfare, I began to hear sounds and wondered exactly what it was I was hearing. At one point there was this muffled distant noise that reminded me of a pigeon cooing. After a while I noticed it broke off and resumed rather too irregularly for that to be so. Then it suddenly dawned, and I was quite startled if not surprised by the realisation, though quite why I couldn't say, that it might be the noises of human love making, or worse still, pigeon lovemaking!

At the end of this week, on my birthday in fact, I'm off to Padmaloka once more, on The Mythic Realm retreat ( formerly known as The Mythic Context). I'm more than under prepared for it. All the work transition stuff, getting used to the work itself, visiting parents, and the full on nature of the last weekend, have left me a tad behind schedule. There is not usually study on this retreat,which is fortuitous, it being more devotional in orientation, which is why I wanted to do it. I'd like to work more consciously on opening up the more expressive and directly passionate side of my Buddhist practice. One of the insights from my previous retreat was the rather self-contained nature of my sraddha in this respect. Whilst I am quite a strongly emotional person, I have over the years hidden this behind a reserve, that I can find quite imprisoning at times. I believe this could have developed decades ago as a result of previous occasions where perhaps I've been too emotionally open and have been hurt as a consequence. It might simply have been, being hurt or let down by things that I've been in love with, in all the forms that this can be experienced. So I'm rather emotionally guarded in this area. After so long its difficult to know how I could effectively break out of this habit. Anyway, I'm hoping to do work on this whilst at Padmaloka.

A fortnight ago I finally finished a small seed syllable painting ( shown left) I've done as an ordination gift for Jnanashalin. I'd already finished one for Maitrighosha , formerly Paco, (shown above right) over six weeks ago. I'm quite pleased with the way these have come out, and can see this might be a subject matter which might be fruitful to take my painting in. But its a measure of how busy I've been lately that its taken me three months to complete just two small 6 x 8 pictures. Perhaps now I can get down to focusing on developing my other work that I put on one side whilst I did these. If only I didn't keep finding these seemingly small side projects I get interested in too, like photographing of the dappling effects of sunlight in our room, or making proper hanging fixtures and hanging cloths for the community shrine room, or finding an old meditation stool my Father made for me years ago that I'm refreshing by painting it a deep blood red. I've decided to stick a small Buddha medallion on its base, and to make it mythical, in my eyes at least, into a 'Diamond Throne'.

PRACTICE 2 - Dotoku, Sendaba & Buddha Nature

Some of the fruits from my recent study of Dogen's religious philosophy

DOTOKU

"I await the time when I do not speak and then hear immediately"
TUNG SHAN

Dotoku is the central concept that all Dogen's philosophy subsequently develops out from. He does this by fully exploiting, then expanding further, the linguistic ambiguities inherent to Chinese characters, where they can mean two things simultaneously. Essentially dotoku means both - attainment of the Way & the means to the attainment of the Way- the actuality & the possibility simultaneously. This idea Dogen adopts and then takes it off into territory, that sometimes is only implied in the early Buddhist sutras. Dotoku provides the essential underpinning for his contention that Practice and Enlightenment are 'intimate', are one with each other.

We can become accustomed to seeing practice only as a self-initiated endeavour that will help us realise Enlightenment, practices that at some point we'll need to abandon. So its hard to shift perspective from this, to seeing the action of practice as being initiated by Enlightenment, urging itself to be made manifest through our practice. The danger in this view is that it can be taken too literally - it isn't meant to imply that we are already Enlightened. The emergence of the Enlightened state is still entirely dependant on conditions. For Dogen we express, in accordance with the degree of our faith, vigour and application to our practice, the Enlightened state through that practice. Likewise, all things which we think of as 'standing in for' as representations of this ineffability, are not just symbols of them, but manifestations of the symbolised itself eg - the vajra - the 'adamantine' symbol for the energy that cuts through to the true nature of reality - isn't according to this view only something that represents this energy, it is a manifestation of it.

SENDABA

"You experience and penetrate the inaudible when words are uttered"
DOGEN

Sendaba is a word that has an infinite variety of possibilities for meaning and expression. It is traditional in Buddhist doctrine to see language as a rather inadiquate means for transmitting the truth of the Dharma. The emptiness of sunyata, of our self, language, ideas and concepts, is fundamental. But, rather than seeing language as being limited by its emptiness in its ability to express the ineffable, Dogen turns this assumption on its head and says that linguistic expression of the ineffable is sendaba - infinite -as infinite as the means through which the Enlightened state can be manifested - through words, sutras, mantras, symbols, sraddha, nature, dreams, myth, philosophy, illusion and the creative imagination. Through all these things the ineffable can become 'intimate' with us, because they are all essentially sunyata - empty - without a defined, and therefore fixed, meaning. But what makes this sense of them grow and develop in this 'intimacy' is wholehearted action - 'the mustering of the whole body-mind' - 'the total exertion of a single thing, is one with that of all things' This means that intention, volition and action is vital for creating the conditions for this 'intimacy' to arise in our consciousness. Enlightenment/Buddha-nature is not a passive, but an active state


BUDDHA - NATURE

"Buddha- nature and becoming a Buddha always occur simultaneously"

DOGEN

Buddha-nature cannot in Dogen's scheme of things be divorced from this 'intimate' wholehearted exertion. This is seen as a form of 'actional understanding', that any positive spiritual action can have a consequence in making Buddha-nature arise and be more manifest. So Dogen's view of Buddha-nature is not that it is either eternally present, nor provisional, but that it is realisable through the devoutness of our actions. This means that Buddha-nature has to be 'intimately' connected with - prattitya samutpada - conditioned arising -as truly seeing the nature of the latter is, according to Dogen, an expression of the former. In this, Dogen was parting from the contemporary Japanese view of 'original enlightenment' as some sort of permanent, and therefore eternal force.

I've been seeing this relationship as being similar to that between a light bulb and a light switch. A light bulb is designed to be able to manifest light, but it needs to be switched on. In this sense you could say it has potential for light, but does not yet possess it. It is probably more helpful to say that a light bulb has the capability for manifesting light, but it is only able to do so if certain conditions are in place. Primarily, that there is a means of creating the energy, a means to connect that energy to the bulb. a means of creating and fixing a switch to that connection, someone to turn the switch on, and once switched on, a working light bulb through which the energy can manifest as light. If all these conditions are present then the light bulb maybe said to be capable of being lit. This metaphor outlines the relationship to Buddha-nature to us - we have the capability for the realisation of Buddha-nature - but if we don't create the conditions for it to through practice, it simply will not fully manifest.

DIARY 107 - Weebles Wobble - but they don't fall down!

THE RETURN

Since coming back to Cambridge, it has been far from easy to settle back into my usual routine. I all too easily dropped into 'busy mode' - too much shopping, dashing around, and generally being on the go for too prolonged a period. By the end of that Saturday I was shattered. Whether I objectively had a lot to do is hard to say. The rest of the week continued to be characterised by a sense of being overwhelmed, as if I was asking too much of myself - this may have been so. It was my last week working in Customer Services, which put a real strain on my ability to apply myself to the situation. By Tuesday I found myself exercising so much willpower to get through the day, that I spent all the following evening in an anxious panic, unable stop myself from being busy. Consequently I was spark awake most of the night. This is not how I usually find returning from retreat, I usually manage it much more evenly paced and smoother than this. I've been strained and sleepless for a lot of it.

On reflection perhaps it would have been better if on my return I'd started immediately in a new team, rather than reminding myself how stressed I get by the old one. In future I need to be more conscious that what I think I'll find easy to do, from the perspective of a month ago, I might not actually find that easy to do when the actual moment is upon me. It seems hard for me to imagine with out the immediate context of the present moment being there, how I'm actually going to feel. An classic example emerged this week. A month ago I said I'd be willing to be a back-up person for when Customer Services are severely under resourced. However this week, when I was asked if I'd help them out in a fortnights time, my response was a very alarming feeling of despair at the thought of this, mixed with regret that I'd said this, with a stoical sense of duty, that perhaps I should override my feelings ( yet again ) and honour my initial promise. I have, however, said I can't, at least on this occasion, help. I've made no future promise. I just need to experience myself out of that context for a while, before plunging back into its 'hell realms' like Bodhisattva Kshitigatbha. I think I've given enough of myself to that situation for the time being, I felt no guilt about saying no, only relief.

Thankfully, this week has now come to an end. Normal service has been resumed. I decided in the end that the only thing to do in order to restore correct perspective and a more balanced effort to the situation was - more practice. So that's what I did, and the sense of being psychically disjointed, with neither the retreat or my return coming together into a satisfying integrated whole, did finally calm down. So this has not been one of my best weeks, but by no means one of my worst either.

DIARY 106 - I'm not a Bodhisattva - Yet !

THE RETREAT

It's been a week since I got back from my retreat, and it already feels as if it were a month ago. The retreat itself was quite challenging. The Bodhicaryavatara material does not indulge or accommodate any niceties of taste, feeling or decorum. It goes straight for the jugular of our fundamental selfish natures. This is a core problem for any would be Bodhisattva, who's said to have denied themselves full enlightenment until all sentient beings have also been saved. It's as though one has been riding on the backs of the four horseman of the apocalypse only to get thrown off at the end. You have to face the fact of how far away you are from being a Bodhisattva. So far, in fact, you're unable to see yourself becoming one at all.

The beginning of the retreat was slightly marred by waking with a strong headache and nausea on three consecutive mornings. Was it tension released by the change in context, poor sleep posture, trying too hard in meditation or being unused to the higher level of meditation practice? In the end it proved to be neither of these, it was oxygen starvation overnight. The two of us sleeping in the dorm were recycling the same air, with ever depleting levels of oxygen - easily resolved by opening a window.

Consequently, during the initial days, I struggled with the study. Old low self-esteem in study demons came out of the wood work for a revisit, after a number of years absence. Oxygen starvation removed as a contributory causal factor, I soon perked up. I am never the most verbose contributor in a study group, but what I do say is invariable considered, can be right on the spot, or at least clearly and succinctly expressed. Speed of response is rarely my strong point, but provided I seize the opportune moment to speak, I can be a useful contributor to any study discussion.

My meditation gradually deepened as the retreat progressed. I stayed on for four full days after the retreat, utilising the time well. My practice began to slip regularly into Access Concentration, and more than occasionally teetered into 1st Dhyana, which was most gratifying after many years of nadir. The recent increase in my level of practice pre-retreat must have laid good conditions for this fruitful outcome. I also did two to three hours of personal study every day, on a chapter from Mystical Realist by Hee Jin Kim, that describes and explores the basic concepts and models in Dogen's religious approach. This I found extremely productive study material. I got a specific grip on something I'd only previously had a general grasp of. (I'll do a seperate posting about this )

PRACTICE 1 - Ethical Practice, Dhyana & Sahdana

I've been continuing the preparatory study for the Bodhicaryavatara retreat, reading and making notes on Sangharakshita's book - The Bodhisattva Ideal. Much of the territory is so familiar that one can find oneself taking for granted that you know what it all means. Just occasionally there's some refreshingly eye opening insight that makes one review or take a more active interest. This week I was reading about the qualities and depths of dhyana possible through meditation. Though I'm conversant with these in theory, I'm not conversant with them from my actual meditative experience. Sangharakshita states that if we were without mental obstacles, resting in dhyana would become our natural everyday state. I've previously understood that not getting into dhyana was never solely a result of an imperfect meditation technique, but also about the imperfections in ones ethics too. I've tended to focus my major ethical effort on what is most easily noticeable to myself and others -my external ethical practice. In The Bodhisattva Ideal, he makes it clear that whether one regularly courses in the dhyanas or not, is dependent on the relative health of ones body and mind - how at ease one is within oneself - that this is fundamentally an issue of internal ethical well-being.

In this regard he directs attention towards observing the strength or weakness of the five hindrances in meditation as good ethical indicators. ( The hindrances are - restlessness & anxiety - doubt & indecision - sloth & torpor - desire for sense experience - ill will.) I've not explictly seen the five hindrances in quite this way. I've used them primarily as a tool for analysing or monitoring my awareness and experience, as a means to cultivate positive mental states, which it has to be said, are inherently ethical ones. However, I think I've seen the increased ethical awareness and sensitivity as being a by-product of this positive mental state, not a foundation for it. Perhaps it is both cause and outcome.

I believe I have a reasonable self awareness of the ethical consequences of my outward actions and speech. Though it is all too easy to see ethics as entirely this externalised thing. To work on oneself ethically by not harming others through my actions or speech, is no bad thing in itself, though it is only partially facing the issue, dealing with symptoms, not causes. I have known individuals to place an inordinate, if not self-righteous, amounts of effort on their external ethics, whilst it is self-evident that its their internal mental states that require the real ethical attention. Something felt like it was being masked or evaded by this strong outward focus. That said, it is undoubtedly harder to notice the tone and quality of ones internal dialogue, or to raise ones awareness of the 'ethics of the private moment.' It's also much more uncomfortable to turn the spotlight inwards rather than outwards. Whilst external ethical practice is an essential starting point, one cannot rest on the laurels of outward ethical practice alone. Sangharakshita is clear that if you want to abide regularly in dhyana, then a broadly based effort on external ethics, needs to be accompanied by a focused effort on the ethics of thoughts and internal dialogue within ones own mind. At some point, you do have to face what are the causes of it all.

I've made two small re-adjustments or re-visioning as a result of reading this. The first concerns the five mental hindrances as unethical states. These can be quite persistent, and via there tone or consequence, they are unskillful states to indulge in - being neither wholesome nor pure of taint. More consciously working from the perspective of ethics might contribute to improving the health of my mental landscape. One of the traditional antidotes to the hindrances is to consider the consequences in allowing an unskillful state to continue. So there has always been an ethical implication or imperative there, were I to have noticed it.

The second adjustment concerns the Shakyamuni Sahdana practice (a devotional visualisation) that I do. I've imagined this practice as a coming into imaginative relationship with an Enlightened state of consciousness - somewhere vaguely out there. Working with this sense of an Other Power, to be able to draw down from it for inspiration, is important. Though I'm beginning to see being drawn towards this externalised Other Power is reciprocated internally - with a greater sense of Self Power also being cultivated. Visualising Shakyamuni Buddha helps me grow more intimate with a sense of Buddhahood or Buddha Nature within myself. Yet, lying between me and Shakyamuni's grace, somewhat like a veil, is the health of my ethics, where the hindrances are the obscuring screen. The clarity with which one sees a picture on a computer, if looked at in detail, is dependent on the number of pixels. Similarly the imperfections in my ethical practice, when looked at closely, pixelate the screen, disrupting my ability to envisage and connect with the transcendental in myself and the world.

DIARY 105 - Entertaining Friends

The watershed for handing on my responsibility has been reached, crossed and I didn't even get my feet wet. My team came round to Abbey House for breakfast out in the garden,the first outdoor breakfast of the year. It was a delightful sunny May Day, our walled garden was at its best. There was a brief house tour, followed by rejoicing in my merits and a handover ceremony during a seven fold Puja. I'd made a special shrine, shopped and prepared the breakfast table. The whole event went swimmingly, and if I was not noticible moved by it, I did feel something was set down or resolved through the devotional ritual. At one point I sensed that Richard Tebbit was somehow there in a ghostly capacity. As yet, I'm not quite at the point of being able to completely let go of Customer Services. There are some residual tensions entangled around my feet still. Anyway, I'm off on retreat next Friday, so, hopefully, this will enable me to draw it more to a close in my psyche than at present.

Tuesday night, we had guests round for dinner in the community. Our community numbers have often been very sparse of late since David and Carl left for Ghuyaloka. So it was good to have a full table again, the conversation was full of jokes, and lively,convivial banter. After the meal I came up to my room. I suddenly felt a aching sense of really being alone, and not really wanting to be. In the aftermath of being in such convivial company, I felt David's absence not just from the occasion of the meal, but also from around me, immensely. It's the first time since he left for the ordination course, that I've felt so strongly overwhelmed emotionally by how much I am actually missing him. Next Tuesday will mark the first month since he left, so he's already a quarter of the way through his course. Only twelve more weeks to go!

FEATURE 26 - A Poet Laureate for the Noughties

So the first female Poet Laureate has been chosen. I hope Carol Anne Duffy fares better in the post than Andrew Motion, who appeared to receive a bit of a critical mauling. Though he dutifully fulfilled his brief to write doggerel for royal occasions, he also tried to carve out a new role for the Laureate as a spokesman who could actively promote and proselytise on behalf of poetry in general. I would imagine he, like many Laureates before him ( and they have always been a 'him' previously ) wanted to break out of the restrictions inherent to this royally appointed position. In desperate need of redefinition, the role of Poet Laureate can easily choke,rather than release the poetic stream. Motion, wisely and laudably, attempted to stimulate public interest and to re-inject poetry back into the popular cultural mainstream. That he was the first Laureate to attempt to do this may turn out to be his one enduring legacy. It's unlikely to be for his poetry.

Unfortunately for Motion, he is not eccentric or loveable in the way John Betjamin was. He isn't a populist poet either, in style or content. His appearence is like a design consultant, or a jobbing actor. He has an intellectually measured, imaginatively refined voice, there is little that strikes you as passionate or able to move ones heart in his verses. The tone easily becomes emotionally neutered in some way. Like many a Poet Laureate before him, he's failed to blossom as a poet whilst occupying the position, quite the opposite. The appointment may be a poisoned chalice, only given to poets once they are past there best, or that somehow it effectively poisons or strangles the muse before your eyes... and ears. Motion is also a man, which fails to win you many brownie points these days, only a sort of grudging attention surrounded with suspicion about the Poet Laureate being an all male, and therefore automatically suspect, preserve. Thankfully the back of this accusation has now been broken. But still, its not a good time for any man of vision to be in a position of authority, unless you are Barak Obama of course.

Carol Anne Duffy as a woman, better fits the prevailing zeitgeist. She is that rare poet who is both lauded by critics and popular with the Womans Hour/Guardian reader set. She is also, from the start, a much more emotionally accessible poet than Motion. Stylistically versatile, she's able to strike chords of wit and empathy in her predominantly female audience, establishing herself with a distinctive voice, in both subject matter and emotional tone. She is by no means a writer of light jovial verse in the vein of Pan Ayres, she's able to plumb the psychological depths, but does so without being consumed by them, which was Sylvia Plaths fate. Ayres and Plath were woman born into an entirely different era, where women had to constantly make light of their lot, or collapse under the psychic weight of accumulated frustration. Duffy is part of a more recent generation of female poets who've moved out of the Apollonian shadow of masculine imagery, and forged a strongly developed vein of the Dionysian and the feminine at the cutting edge of contemporary poetry, and society in general.

Because she's the first woman appointed to the position, she'll probably get a much easier ride than any male occupant would. Her gender will keep the questioning critical voices at bay, for awhile - why, whether occupied by a male or a female, do we need a Poet Laureate in the first place, what, in the 21st Century could be its purpose, and how could it ever be made relevant? Her newly incumbant presence, also continues the ongoing re-shaping of societies perceptions and prejudices, to re-carve the dominant artistic perspective in a more feminine friendly image. Perhaps only someone whose gender, culture or race makes them a de-facto establishment outsider, will be able to successfully redefine the position of Poet Laureate in our collective imagination. This sort of transformation of an institution is something a White Anglo-Saxon Male, either is not allowed to do, or is simply unable to do in these multi-cultural times. The W.A.S.M is, after all, the all pervasive dark oppressor, the arche enemy of egalitarianism. In the 'noughties' if there are new strong and distinctive male poetic voices out there, it is getting increasingly harder to hear them. Women in the past were unable to access or set the cultural agenda because of male dominance of its creed and colour. Those tables seem already to be turning, or have already turned, presenting a deaf ear to the masculine. The voice of the Apollonian beast, if not gagged, has become a mere whisper of its former self. It appears you'll not hear its like again, at least for some time.

DIARY 104 - The Finishing Touch

The final handover to my replacement draws nearer (May 1st- Hurrah!!!) I've devised a Handover Ceremony, which will take place in the context of a Sevenfold Puja. This week I've handed over what might flatteringly be called my 'managerial portfolio'. My daily in-tray is pretty empty most of the time now, so at any hour of the day I can frequently teeter on the edge of tedium, without fully embracing or toppling over into it. Fending off boredom can become soooo utterly- utterly- exhausting. Staying in the present moment, and not looking forward to a time of future release, can be made more difficult when that present moment is as dull as ditch water.


The beginning of last week, though it was all too familiar, was just taxing. With one member of staff on leave, and one suddenly off ill - 'we two left together clinging' - were - I believe the common parlance is - 'holding our shit together' - but only just. It may objectively have been no busier than usual, but subjectively, it did feel a more severe strain than I felt happy to accommodate. This is just how it frequently is in Customer Services - its one of the things, by stepping down, that I want to get away from. By the time the 'ailing one' in my team did return on the Tuesday, it seemed every cranky, confusing, uncooperative customer we have on our books, was ringing up to place orders, or chase up a delivery. In the run up to a Bank Holiday, there are often such mad stampedes the week before. Through the unique eyes and pressures of the moment it seemed worse than usual. I handled it all OK on the surface,though I was finding myself handling a side of my psyche that's a trifle crotchety and intolerant. The underlying state was bedraggled with ragged edges - my mental states weren't always saintly. As the weeks pass, frustrated impatience, if not weariness, is becoming an increasing trend I need to remain aware of. I never realised before that simply waiting could be so tiring. I've not been sleeping soundly, and I'm not sleeping soundly because I'm unsettled, and I'm unsettled because I've been waiting to step down from being Customer Services Manager for eleven weeks. Still only another six weeks to go - six weeks ! Agggh !! calamity!!! - why did I agree to this? Because I was considering other peoples needs, and prioritising them before my own. So I have only myself to chastise on this one. If my rewards are not be in heaven, I want to know where they are - right now!!

I appear to have survived relatively unscarred by the last three weeks without David. Two weeks absence away on retreat is quite normal, but by next week he'll be clocking in his first month in Ghuyaloka. Many people have asked how I'm doing without him, and generally I'd say I'm OK. I'm not the moping type, at least never for long. I'm keeping myself busy, I have a number of creative things to be getting on with, and friends to meet up with. Obviously, I do miss him not being around,if only to share thoughts, confidences and experiences. I notice it most in the little rituals, the things we invariable do together, where it doesn't seem quite the same when ones doing it on ones tod. I have yet to find myself clawing at his picture and tearing open my shirt in wailing desperation, at least not yet. I've a very convenient way to manage the lack of sex - if you get my meaning. Given time, perhaps by the last month of his course in July, I might be clambering like a mad baboon looking for sight of him. Who knows?.


I've almost completed my first 'seed syllable' picture, the Ratnasambhavsa one I'm doing for Paco. I did his first because he isn't staying the full four months in Ghuyaloka, he's back at the beginning of July. Though in the end its come out quite well, there was one tense moment on Saturday. I'd bought some gold leaf paint to outline a lotus design. I'd shake the bottle to make sure the golden bits were suspended well, I'd turn away to paint a few brush strokes, but by the time my brush and I returned to the pot the gold would have separated out again. I was shaking, stirring and painting repeatedly all afternoon. This unsatisfactory process, didn't help in producing a result I was entirely happy with, but its now so bedecked with jewels no one else will notice a slightly blotchy wobbly edged paint finish. Only I will know and continue to be creatively aggrieved by it, should I allow myself to be. Learning to be creative in my responses to imperfection has been a cutting edge in my practice for many many years.

FEATURE 25 - John Cooper Clarke - I travel in biscuits

I've been rediscovering the delights of John Cooper Clarke's early albums - Disguise in Love - Snap Crackle & Bop - Zip Style Method. The rich variety of musical styling that Martin Hannett glues Cooper Clarke's poems into, is impressive. It brings aural longevity to his work, which despite the obvious grittier punch of his naked live delivery, can become a bit wearing without these musical embellishments. There is only so much of the cynical tone and strangulated Salford vowel sounds you can comfortable stomach. But he is almost the archetypal performance poet, he has to be seen to be believed.



Perhaps we may have forgotten now how he almost single handed(Lynton Kwesi Johnson & Benjamin Zephaniah were two others) made poetry an acceptable and vital part of popular culture once more. The impact of this revival has somewhat diminished now, but Clarke's influence on it is still huge. For sheer energy of delivery, verbal facility and dexterity with which he makes his observations, Cooper Clarke is unmatched. My current favourite is 'I Travel in Biscuits' from Zip Style Method. I've been trying to find a You Tube video of John Cooper Clarke performing it with Martin Hannett's backing music. So far I have failed. I like this poem, not just because of its a good example of his trademark sparky word play, but also for the genuine sympathy he communicates for the dreary nature of a travelling salesmans life, selling products he doesn't care anything for. Anyway, here is the text version.

I TRAVEL IN BISCUITS

the sound of the daylight
the smell of the urine
the rain on the drainpipes
the filthy two-two time
i should know better
how an animal feels
a real go-getter
a wolf on all wheels
white collar whizz kids
button three mohair
i travel in biscuits
getting me nowhere

munchety munch
this is the punchline
crunchety crunch
they last you a lunchtime
who can resist it
who can be so square
i travel in biscuits
getting me nowhere

can you afford it
this is the crunch
orders are audits
a kiss or a punch
a dangerous neighbourhood
don't push it too far
i feel like i'm made of wood
i stay in the car
i have to risk it
i have to go there
i travel in biscuits
getting me nowhere

they keep their crispness
more than just one day
got some for christmas
ate them last monday
if you resist it
i'm gonna go spare
i travel in biscuits
getting me nowhere

the critical daylight
the smell of the urine
the rain on the drain pipes
the filthy two-two time
life is precarious
a long way from home
in alien areas
always alone
i look like a misfit
no one i know there
i travel in biscuits
getting me no where.

JOHN COOPER CLARKE
From - Ten years in an open necked shirt.
Published by Arena Books Ltd 1983.