One thing that’s become evident this week is that, with my efforts to re-establish a career veering off in many different directions like some series of poorly made bottle rockets, there’s barely a smidgeon of rice paper or the like between charming motivated John and going back to bed.
Inasmuch as I’m not in bed but here being at least charming if not motivated, I am, ipso fatso, Fatso. But I’d rather be that than that idiot, Ipso.
Meantime, my categories checkboxes tell me that this post is also designed to be about Buddhism somehow, so it’s time for the weekly Sangha update, I suppose.
One of the meditation groups I’ve been attending has turned out to be somewhat untenable. It takes a while to find one’s way around, I suspect. The other group, which met last night again, was once again very tasty. Next week we’ll be sitting in a new hall instead of one of the member’s homes.
I find I prosper in such meetings to the extent they’re more like a group of meditators getting together, and less like a church. It’s nice that someone has robes and prostrates to the altar a multiple of three times and has other traditions — it’s just not for me.
