Jock Tamson's final reckoning and ra bliss.

          On Sunday, since I'd spoken to Stephen Greenhorn about it the day before, I read the copy of the play I got from the folk in the Appleton Tower, where I met him on Saturday.

          I wanted to just read it in a oner, and get some kind of feeling about it, and then leave it for good. But I was too surprised by it to come to any conclusion. I'd forgotten that I'd changed the ending (again!) and the bits about the Old Man that I'd re-inserted just jumped out at me. I couldn't see the arc, the shape of the piece, unfolding the way I would have liked. The problem with writing scripts which will never be performed is that there isn't really a cut off point, the kind a performance gives you. Anyway, I'll try not to do anything to yon play unless I get some actors to read it. Which won't happen, but that's okay.

        The bliss was so strong, so good today, especially in the first meditation. Hard to say now when the first meditation begins. Lying on my side or on my back in bed in the morning has lots of bliss coming into it these days. The man said you could meditate sitting, lying, and walking. I haven't got the bliss whilst walking yet, but I'm better at the inter meditational times walking or not because I try to keep in mind that everything is arising and abiding and declining as one thing, which I am very fortunate to be a little part of. Anyway, even if Dzogchen is not a gradual path, I think this idea was re-inforced by reading some of the Dzogchen stuff.

        The photie is from a couple of months ago, a random look out the side window.

Jock Tamson's surgery.

          I had a great meeting with Stephen Greenhorn today. Most enjoyable. We were supposed to be talking about my play, Jock Tamson's Half Hearted Transformation, but most of the time was spent catching up. Lots of good things seemed to have happened to Stephen in the last twenty years, which is what you want to hear. Seems he lived in London for eight years or so, but now he's moved into a house in Chalmers Crescent. When Graham Worrell bought a house with a roof on it in Wormit, I realised that the kind of folk who lived in middle class houses were now friends of mine. But Chalmers Crescent? So pleased. It's not always the bastards who score in this world.

          Stephen seemed to like the play. Said it needed tightened up here and there and so it does. That's why I'd like to hear it read. That probably won't happen. There's no point in writing plays without getting a commission first. I don't like working from commissions and would prefer to just write something, and that is not the way it used to work, and I don't think it's any better now. Anyway, it was good to do this today.

          Stephen said my play was picked not because he used to know me, but because it was one of the four best sent in. That was nice to know. But even if it was Hamlet, it's chances of getting a production from this position is zilch. C'est la vie. Pleased to have written it. That's the main thing.

Meet me at Dawn

          Yesterday afternoon I took in my first show of this festival. It was a two hander at the Traverse and was a play about bereavement. If I had known that, I might not have gone, but it was well worth it. Very well written and I thought the acting was just terrific. I think we got tickets because it was the same writer who did the Mary Queen of Scots play we saw at the Lyceum. Zinnie Harris wrote it. I'll look out for more stuff from her.

          I finished a new first chapter of the thriller the other day. Another new beginning. I thought the meeting with Stephen Greenhorn this Saturday to talk about the play was going to get called off when I got an email telling me the meeting was in Glasgow. Just a mistake.

Once back to earth

          That's a photie of Crichton Castle. And a post. My friend usually drives us into the countryside every weekend in search of such as woodland walks, with chickens if possible. Also, water. Occasionally, you get to drive past castles. They're all over the shop.

         I boiled up some apples tonight. Delicious. I can't eat them raw, but just boiling them seems to change their taste completely. Since I stopped being a vegetarian (when I got back from the Singalila Ridge) I've been eating a lot of chicken and making chicken soup. The soup tonight has the chicken stock and tatties, onions and cabbage that I grew. Very nice soup.

         I was a bit annoyed with myself today. I started writing the thriller. Might as well. I really quite enjoyed it too! I gave up writing to meditate six hours a day, but these days I'm lucky to do three, at least at the weekends. So I might as well write. That makes no sense, but I'll do more.

Hamburg

          Was away there for ten days. The first week was spent in Denmark with the nephew Liam and his people. Then we went to Hamburg. All guys. About seven male relatives from three generations. Nobody interested in meditating except me.

          Well, sometimes you've to got to think that you're just not in a place where you will be able to meditate much. In Hamburg there are lots of other things you could do there, and almost nobody is going to go there to meditate. But it was easy in Denmark. In Hamburg it was full on socialising and far too much drinking. So I spent Monday night at home and I won't be back here till tomorrow. Where is home and how do I get there?

            It's time to get back to me and all the bits that keep me together. This afternoon I did my first training session for nearly two weeks. But going away and hardly meditating .... well, it seems if I don't meditate much, I feel much less happy. Whether I meditate much or not, it seems that the channels keep opening further .... like, almost despite me, so you could back into a meditation when you've been lax for a bit and it's wow! Why the hell am I not doing this?

             At this moment, it's as if I gave up writing to meditate more and now I'm hardly doing either. But going on holidays with my male relatives was a great thing to do. And I think I drank less than anyone apart from Jamie, my great nephew, who wasn't legal to drink in the first place!!

Jutland

          Me and Malc came to Denmark about six days ago. After a night in the very good Cabinn Hotel, we got the train to Aarhus where Liam met us and took us to his council flat in Trige. It's a great flat for a single guy. The bit I really like is the seven feet or so at the end of the living room and bedroom that forms a separate wee bit with a hard floor, perfect for training in really, or growing tomatoes, which Liam is doing.

          We went to a deer park one afternoon with tame deers. Weird. They approach for food. Not me. I was trying to keep out of their road. And we went to a lovely long, long beach. Malc and I walked around Aarhus for a bit yesterday and today we went out to shooty shooty some arrows. I don't think I've ever fired a bow before. Thought of Zen and the Art of Archery, and just about missed everything. They sell Erdinger in cans!!

          Tomorrow we have to get up at six or so and travel five hours on a bus. That'll be alright. I can meditate on the bus. Only managed two hours today, but both were very, very good indeed.