I'd be studying the teacher, probably....lust and caracterological intrigue as new variables in the equation....

Subjectwise, I'd go for economics which I 've never formally studied.....twas economics or chemistry at school and I chose foolishly.....if economics is the study of incentive, rather than the movement of bulked-up trash-diet industry-barfed fecal matter through the intestines of marketforce and jurisprudential infrastructure then I guess I have a good foundation in psychology and buddhism since knee-jerk attachmen and aversion...buying and selling....are actions of our brutish nature or delusion or ineluctable consequences of those thar metaphysical marketforces.....so therefore study the contrary-but-not-contradictory strands of human nature or delusion or markets and you begin to cement the groundwork of the economic thang into awareness....uh...sorry crap metaphor but anyways....uh

Actually I still am in schoo;..I'm doing a Samye Ling Buddhist study course anda course in classical yoga philosophy with Georg Feuestein which, taken with all the psychotherapy lit I gotta keep on top of, makes me glad that God blessed me with a brain that soaks stuff up with speed.

Sat aslant on some desert pediment in Utah maybe cos it's hot and dry which counterpoints the flooding in this neck of the woods.....ah desert music..Harold Budd...Steve Roach......Wyole Coyote........

This hapened literally half an hour ago......I'm having a whale of a time taking myself off to my new yoga centre at 6 am and doing my practice before breakfasting with my son....and a crew of Hebden Bridge yogis are turning up for their own sadhana and things are pretty grovy and there's love in the air......

Anywys, whilst in paschimottanasana (seated forward bend) it suddenly clicked regarding how to engage the internal energy locks (bandhas) without compromising either the breathing or the physical configuration of the posture....which resulted in an ease and interiorisaton the depth of which I've never before experienced in a forward bend.....awesome as the thre moonsets of Trantabogga but you need a tardis for that one....

I was proud of my father, who worked his way up from being a docker (stevedore to you american cousins) to running Cardiff Docks...al in a meteoric ten years.....

His secret was good delegation....Al Capone knew this one, too....you delegate yourself out of any task other than careful delegation.....and if you do it right, all your subordinates will feel respected that you trust them with the responsibility.....and work hard for you...and this my father did with consummate skill....he came home at 5;30 each evening and never talked about his work or looked stressed...and this was the most valuable lesson that he ever taught me because I do not stress out in that neurotic way either.

I found Contentment hanging out in the mall with Atonement.....Attie had just finished a spell of hard work in the Multikosha Gym and was sipping a guilt-free Sprite and telling Connie the fable about the tortoise and hare and Connie sat serenely dining on a single peanut and chewing slow as an Ekman training vid.

Performance art really floats my boat......why only last week I was walking down the street with Tam, my Queen of Hearts...and I was seized with a fervent desire to strip all me clothes off and cover me hands and feet with black treacle and declare us The Duff Hand...Queen of Hearts and Five of Spades.....

My art collection lies in a large at fder and contains Lewis's drawings from 18 months onwards.

Oh that would be me...I have a Christlike aura around me and a halo like an astral headtorch.....all the little animals come sit by my side being fed by my radiance of peace and love.....corporate heads have been known to break down and weep and kiss  my feet once they have gazed upon my benign countenance......

Maybe though it's the fact that I carry a load of fresh meat and gras dripping from my belt when I walk the glades..... and the semtex I strap to my chest whenever I attend board meetings....

I dion't know who is the most caring person I know.....people who really care from a place of pure worldcentric volition are not readily distinguishable from folk who trick themselves into thinking that they care when in fact they are doing their deeds to please the infernal internal critic within.....or from folk who pretend to care out of a sense of subtle self-interest...or narcissistic pride....for example, a lot of sixties Vietnam protestors were not that  impassionned about the atrocities as much as the issue of their being drafted into Hell although their motivation would not be discernable as dissonant within the harmonic chorus of  outrage......

Deeds to me are important but their motivation lends me a clue as to the extent of their conditionality....unconditional caring is liable to be something somebody will be doing even when I'm not watching.....if all of us recognise this fact, we can stop hiding behind stiff masks of self-righteousness and move more deeply into the work of exploring the limits of our compassion so that we may remove them so that our boundries ever shatter into subtlelevel stardust and collapse into the open gravified spaciousness of pure emptiness.   

When there's no stress/threat to myself or others, partcularly those close to me whom I love.....in this uncontracted state I gotta be really really vigilant for those medusalike tendrils of narcissism that creep in through the keyhole of my Shadow Door and puff me up like a hairy little dog wired up to a van der graaf generator.....when threatened I deflate and contract and hold fast to the supportive rigging of  those nearest and dearest to me and allow myself to fret but breathe deeply rather than fuss...I've had quite a bit of this given that I have sunk everything I have financially into the Calderdale Yoga Centre (opened yesterday) and am now broke in the midst of a recession....

...but over the storm of my lifecruise, the Sun that I AM shines on and on and I sit daily in the patch where the clouds part and the warmth descends through my spine to enable me to take yet one more day at a time in the knowledge that my fretting is the laughter in my soul gone stale with ego identification like ice in a thick bladder of a balloon that sits in a field and dreams of flying as if it could do that without any help from Self or partner or pals

I'm a monsoon of tightly-scheduled broad-spectrum stuff today...whooosh goes the rain on the temple roof......

And behind all of this is a still cerulean sky, wide and open and vast and sunlt.

J x

I think that by definition power defines me.