May 23, 2022
I really want help. I want to explore the universe and my mind but I want a teacher. I feel that I’m not ready to go alone. I get confused very quickly. It can get dark and I want to feel that I’m exploring from a place of love. I’m really confused about how to ask for help. But I want to do the right thing.
There’s a light in here. It’s so obvious. It’s definitely here. But I keep going down the path of thinking that it’s inanimate. It’s just like a chemical reaction. I start to feel silly about talking to it. I worry that by doing this I’m going down the wrong path, the path of clinging and craving. The path of holding onto form.
But I don’t want to just ignore the light, or treat it as if it doesn’t matter. I feel very confused. I want to be scientific and rational but I want to feel the warmth. I don’t want it to feel so cold. I want to explore so badly, but from a place of safety.
Maybe I’m not all that wise. I’m no Buddha. I need help. I’m a bit of frightened of the sheer scale of possibilities, and I’m afraid of how easy it seems to be to wander down the wrong path. That’s really what I’m struggling with. I want to do the right thing, but it seems like everyone is saying to do something different. Goenka says to observe the breath and to understand yourself. Jesus seems to say to love God. But I’m not sure if Goenka says to love God? I don’t actually know. I thought he said that it’s counterproductive to worship form.
I guess that’s assuming that God is form.
I want a teacher to help me. I like Jesus for some reason. I would love if he was my teacher. That would be cool. He seems nice.
I don’t know how to pray, or if that’s what he wants. I don’t know how to have a relationship with him. But I want one.
The magical bus got totally wrecked by the force of gravity. It crumpled and then light erupted from all the cracks.
The people ran away screaming for love. They just wanted some love but Holy Moly were they scared. They ripped apart the town looking for guns. They got all the rifles and shot holes in the carcass of the shining bus.
Ten days later the sheriff came to town. He ripped open his wallet and bought some cigars for himself and his assistant, Mrs. Town Face.
“Where are we?” Whispered the sheriff.
“We’re in the depths of Sri Lanka,” responded Mrs. Town Face. “You brought us here after your vision, remember?”
“Ah yes. On the other side of those mountains. Back in London.”
“That’s right,” nodded Mrs. Town Face.
My hands got sweaty and I asked God for some light. I told him that I was in a chair moving through time. I told him that it freaked me out. He said to just talk to the cats and ask them for advice.