Dharma Beatdown

Chillin' by the Hell-realm water cooler.

All Nite Petrol

Has it really been that long since I’ve blogged?  I’ve felt in a curious fog, so sorry.  I know you were all anxiously awaiting my most recent post.

Here’s a dharma update.  I’ve been a solitary practitioner (read: lazy) for quite a while.  I make some midnight runs to drop food off at the local priory, and try to dispense the dharma appropriately whenever possible (read: be a condescending douchebag).  Sometimes I feel the need to remind myself of the worldwide sangha, or just the local one.  The lovely Eriq Nelson, hardcore meditator, was looking for a sangha too, and discovered that a chapter of Dharma Punx meets just down the street from our houses.  Fuck yeah!  So, we decided to go together.

The next day, I was walking back from the store with wife and daughter, and I looked off the sidewalk into a bush next to a fence.  There was a seiza bench sitting there in the bush.  Eh?!!??!

Fucking benches, how do they work?

This one was weatherbeaten and covered in slug trails and spiders(read: AWESOME).  So I took it.  That’s karma, son.  A guy decides to go meditate, finds a meditation bench in a bush… what’s he going to do?  FUCKING SIT ON IT, POTSIE!

To kill this post before it gets too long, we did go to the meeting, and let’s say attendance was… scant.  That’s okay.  We’ll try again.

As far as the bench goes, it worked as advertised.  Which is to say, my rusty-ass legs fell spectacularly asleep.  You cultivate joriki real quick when trying not to fall over like an etherized gorilla during kinhin.  I did get a nice little sky blue pillow at Ikea to sit on, but I think my bench needs punk rock stickers, or painted flames or something.

How's that for kusala?


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