my little room.

my little room.
nathan.

Saturday, June 4, 2016

the bliss of the absolutely not.


during long ago times and far off places yogis turned their backs on the family life in favour of solitude. the reasoning was that eventually a bliss would descend upon anyone willing to forego the pleasures of this world. the reasoning was that a peace would arise from within anyone willing to be still long enough. that bliss, that peace was said to be the bliss of the absolute, the peace before experiece, the pure self, one without a second.




in the meantime, i must add here that right now you can get sixteen bottles of water at walmart for under $2.00. sixteen! it has never been so easy or so cheap to cover the earth like old grandma covered her sofa. i personally had no need of the rather remarkable deal, but i was vaguely attracted to a red button-down shirt. i even tried it on over my tee-shirt. however, imagining illiterate little bangladeshi kids stitching it together put me off the purchase. i tried to ignore the images in my head, but the shirt's color seemed to fade as i hung it back up. anyway, i was just wandering around waiting for rush hour to stop rushing.

there is no reason for anyone to believe me. in fact you really can't. but, i will never-the-less state that i personally know those ancient yogis to be by and large quite correct. there is a profound bliss and a tremendous peace waiting for anyone willing to look for it in a totally different way than normal. the norm would be in a bottle, a joint, relationships, posessions, money. when asked why he lived alone in a hmalayan cave, swami raamji answered: "you and i are not different. we want the same thing out of life. we're just looking in different directions." 

be that as it may, i recently called a guy who was advertising a camper van for sale. he told me on the phone that he wasn't really ready to sell it because the van was running beautifully. of course i said: "well, let me know when it turns to crap and i'll run right over and buy it." i mean, wtf? then i ordered a small dock from a great little business in st. cecile de ashram who employ mentally challenged folk. the dock was done well, quickly and delivered right on time. the problem was that i'd forgotten my cheque book. but, the good fellow said: "well, we deal all the time with people who are mentally challenged so we understand. just go pay at the office tomorrow morning."

where i differ from the perogis who hid themselves away in those himalayan caves is in their belief in a lifetime of solitude. what's wrong with an hour? and what is the absolute?  and what did they do when they got sick? i guess they did nothing. 

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