Party Time

microfiction

In Hell, new arrivals are welcomed with a ticker-tape parade featuring marching bands, songs and long, detailed speeches about your lifetime achievements (such as they are). The Carnival takes up many decades, and segues into a crowded party with music, mayhem, ear skewering noise and brazenly lascivious behaviour, which is, of course, thoroughly frowned upon, but obligatory.

Demons organise games of charades and dressing up contests. Karaoke stages blast out your favourite songs. Rivers of booze flow through open sewers and everyone you speak to is loud and drunk.

The party lasts forever.

There’s no way to leave.

 

The Package

microfiction

In the Afterlife baggage reclaim area, the spirits gathered before taking up a new posting. They loitered, clutching boarding passes, waiting for the carousels to bring the familiar personal effects from previous lives – the pains inflicted and received, the joys and terrors, the losses and forsaken loves.

These were hardened souls, toughened by experience, skilled in the game of life. They longed for wretchedness and ruin – bringing trials, tests, achievements — and the chance to level up.

As the baggage appeared they scurried forward, grasping at the items, eagerly loading themselves down as if anxious to take as much as possible with them to their new lives.

The took up their crosses, their flaws and afflictions, burdens to carry and imperfections to be overcome.

After they were gone the carousels kept going, bringing around the same forsaken item that no one had claimed. Inside the plain, brown paper bag sat a charmed life, one of riches, powers, perfect health. Leave that for the newbies, the spirits had said, break them in easy. Give them a soft start – they’ll need it, bless their souls.

Carrying Baggage Through The Eye Of A Needle

microfiction

The rich man arrived at the gates of Heaven with bags piled high –  slung over his shoulders, clasped in his fists, dragged along on wheels.  It was expensive, exclusive luggage made from the finest leather.  “I need some help here,” he griped but no porters came running, though he had a generous tip ready.

“What’s with the baggage?” the Apostle asked.

“These are my essentials, all I could carry. Can I go back for the rest?”

Peter stepped aside and showed the man the narrow gateway that led to the afterlife. “Take only what you can bear in one go. Nothing more.”

The rich man picked up his bags, determined to leave nothing behind – but the threshold wasn’t wide enough for his stout frame, never mind his belongings too. “Is there no other doorway?” he demanded.

“There’s one over there,” the Apostle said, pointing to a wide, generous entryway with fancy columns, “but…”

“That’s more like it. You should have said. Damned fool,” the rich man blustered. He scurried over, strode proudly between the wide pillars and set his luggage down on the escalator. “Much better. No more walking,” the rich man said, as he began his descent.

How to export and edit highlights from your Kindle

TechStuff, Mac tips, Writer Tech

File 19-08-2016, 12 41 48Are you, like me, addicted to highlighting sections of books, especially non-fiction, so that you can easily review the important information?

I’ll admit, I used to do this to physical copies of books. This is regarded by many as a capital offence. However, now that I do most of my reading on a Kindle or iPad, I can highlight to my heart’s content without ever feeling guilty.

When I mark up a book in iBooks on an iPad, I can easily cut and past the text when needed into another application. For example, I did just that in order to extract quotes for my review of an Alan Watts book.

Today, I was preparing to write another review, this time of a book I read in the Kindle app on my iPad. Hmmm, how to cut and paste the bits I highlighted? It is possible, and this is how I finally did it, and how I then cleaned up the text. [continue reading…]

‘Short Tales of Big Dog’ part 17 – ‘Big Dog’

microfiction, Big Dog
This entry is part 17 of 17 in the series Big Dog

 

Big Dog

Big Dog watched leaves moving in the wind, heard them rustle, and the birds sing, and all manner of things besides. Everything was known. His senses were alert, yet calm. He noticed everything because he was everything. He had become the openness in which the world arises. No longer bound by dog body, dog mind, he was connected to all things. Boundless, eternal, undying. Always present. Silent. Still.

Depositphotos_5457664_XL

 

Notes by the author

This concludes the microfiction series Big Dog (probably – I might add more in the future.)

If you’ve enjoyed this, or are intrigued by it, or just confused, it might help to know that the series was inspired by the Big Mind process, created by Zen Master Genpo Merzel (Genpo Roshi). Each of the short tales attempts to dramatise the experience of being in one of the different voices explored during the process. The Big Mind technique is based on the voice dialogue method of psychotherapy created by Hal and Sidra Stone

‘Short Tales of Big Dog’ part 16 – ‘The Way’

Big Dog, microfiction
This entry is part 16 of 17 in the series Big Dog

 

The Way

Big dog basked in the shade of a tree, listening to leaves rustle and a distant stream burbling over rocks. In the heat of the day he felt content, as if he’d eaten well, with no need to seek or hunt or grasp for prey. Let the world flow by. He would go along in his own time, his own way.

He opened an eye to watch the driver of an ox cart as it rumbled past but the man’s stare was fixed on the narrow, rutted track and he didn’t see Big Dog, never knew, or suspected, he was there.

 

Newsflash! Jungian archetype captured on film

Not Entirely Serious
shadow copy

I may not be much to look at, but my shadow is mean and magnificent!

‘Short Tales of Big Dog’ part 15 – ‘Following The Way’

microfiction, Big Dog
This entry is part 15 of 17 in the series Big Dog

 

Following The Way

His terrier nose sniffed the ground. Had it passed this way? He glared at the bushes, ears cocked. The hare broke out of the thicket and ran. He set off in pursuit, determined never to give in. Whatever it took, no matter the hardships or the distance covered, he would follow. If his prey went to ground, he would dig it out. If it fled into thorn bushes, he would endure the pain.

If it ran, he would chase. If it hid, he would hunt. “I’m coming,” he called to the hare. “Ready or not, I’m on my way.”

 

Anxious? Uneasy? On edge all the time? Join the club…

Reviews

Review: ‘The Wisdom of Insecurity’ by Alan Watts

The Wisdom of Insecurity‘ is a subtly powerful and intriguing book. It weaves together science, religion, philosophy, psychology and cultural analysis, but does it in ways that always feel directly relevant to the way we live. This is not writing for the sake of being clever. It’s there to change us. To make us wake up and smell the cortisol.

Alan Watts

Alan Watts

Watts, who died in 1973, was a British philosopher, writer, and speaker, best known as an interpreter and populariser of Eastern philosophy for a Western audience. From 1950 he taught at the American Academy of Asian Studies in California and gave regular talks on buddhism in general, zen in particular, psychology and philosophy and plenty else besides both in lectures for his students and on a radio show for Pacifica Radio in Berkeley. He wrote more than 25 books. ‘The Wisdom of Insecurity’ is, for me, among the very best of them. It is subtitled ‘A Message For An Age Of Anxiety’ – and while he was writing about his own time, all of sixty-five years ago, the messages within are undoubtedly even more powerful, more relevant and more needed than ever before.

“We seem to be like flies caught in honey. Because life is sweet we do not want to give it up, and yet the more we become involved in it, the more we are trapped”

Have you noticed how everyone seems anxious all the time? It didn’t use to be as bad as this. I know I’m not alone in noticing, because a neighbour of mine, a chap in his sixties or so, commented on it the other day. And we don’t live in a hotbed of anxiety. Life can be quite slow and peaceful in a Devon village, even during tourist season.

If you’re in your teens or twenties, you might think life has always been this anxiety producing, but I can assure you things have got exponentially worse in recent times. Why? That’s a debate for another time (which is to say, I have no real idea, though I’m pretty sure technology has something to do with it. I don’t think it’s the threat of terrorism or even climate change, because for all their seriousness and importance, they are certainly no worse than the threat of the Cold War and nuclear attack which were so prevalent in earlier times).

41hQR5KGUGL._SX323_BO1,204,203,200_Watts says much of the anxiety in our societies come from the breakdown of old traditions:

“traditions of family and social life, of government, of the economic order, and of religious belief. ”

But Watts also provides far more fundamental and far reaching reasons for the anxiety so many people feel – and brings it back to ourselves. We must face what we are doing to ourselves, he tells us. The problems and the answers lie within. In chapter four, ‘The Wisdom of the Body,’ he describes ’the European dissociation’ – a condition which is, he says, not unique to American-European civilisation, but characteristic of it. It comes about because: “we have been taught to neglect, despise, and violate our bodies, and to put all faith in our brains. ”

“we have allowed brain thinking to develop and dominate our lives out of all proportion to “instinctual wisdom, which we are allowing to slump into atrophy. As a consequence, we are at war within ourselves—the brain desiring things which the body does not want, and the body desiring things which the brain does not allow; the brain giving directions which the body will not follow, and the body giving impulses which the brain cannot understand.”

Our consciousness carries much of the blame. It comes from an ability to think about and plan for the future – but that brings with it the ability to fear pain and death. It would appear to be, therefore, part of the human condition.

“We seem to be like flies caught in honey. Because life is sweet we do not want to give it up, and yet the more we become involved in it, the more we are trapped, limited, and frustrated. ”

He tells us much of the anxiety comes from a fear of change in general, and death in particular. That fear, he assures us, is misplaced:

“Life and death are not two opposed forces; they are simply two ways of looking at the same force, for the movement of change is as much the builder as the destroyer. The human body lives because it is a complex of motions, of circulation, respiration, and digestion. To resist change, to try to cling to life, is therefore like holding your breath: if you persist you kill yourself.”

Watts is lucid and convincing when he writes about the problems we face. Of course, it is more difficult to provide solutions. Watts does not disappoint – there is a way forward.

“How are we to heal the split between “I” and “me,” the brain and the body, man and nature, and bring all the vicious circles which it produces to an end? How are we to experience life as something other than a honey trap in which we are the struggling flies? How are we to find security and peace of mind in a world whose very nature is insecurity, impermanence, and unceasing change? All these questions demand a method and a course of action. At the same time, all of them show that the problem has not been understood. We do not need action—yet. We need more light.

Light, here, means awareness—to be aware of life, of experience as it is at this moment, without any judgments or ideas about it. In other words, you have to see and feel what you are experiencing as it is, and not as it is named. This very simple “opening of the eyes” brings about the most extraordinary transformation of understanding and living, and shows that many of our most baffling problems are pure illusion.”

Watts is always worth reading for the ideas and the warm wisdom alone. But his books are also a joy to read. There is nothing here of the dry academic, with one eye on his back-stabbing colleagues and the other on his professional peers, not giving two hoots about the poor reader. Instead, Watts writes with clarity, wit, vigour and a tough, straight-forward style. The clarity he achieves is remarkable considering much of what he writes about must be classified as either philosophy or comparative religion, with generous helpings of science and psychology thrown in. He was no self-help guru. He never spouts truisms or nonsense. He is a tough thinker, but one with a typically British self-deprecating sense of humour.

It is a real shame he isn’t still with us, because the world needs this kind of wisdom more than ever:

“Civilization is ready to fly apart by sheer centrifugal force. In such a predicament the self-conscious type of religion to which we have so long been accustomed is no cure, but part of the disease. If scientific thought has weakened its power we need have no regrets, for the “God” to which it could have brought us was not the unknown Reality which the name signifies, but only a projection of ourselves—a cosmic, discarnate “I” lording it over the universe.”

As well as writing beautifully, and with power, Watts is also brilliant at producing the right quote to sum things up and add a flourish:

“Eddington, the physicist, is nearest to the mystics, not in his airier flights of fancy, but when he says quite simply, “Something unknown is doing we don’t know what.”

Verdict: If you’re even remotely interested in life, the universe and everything, then this book is a treasure. It might just change your life.

‘Short Tales of Big Dog’ part 14 – ‘Seeking The Way’

microfiction, Big Dog
This entry is part 14 of 17 in the series Big Dog

 

Seeking The Way

Big dog had traveled for nine days already, heading relentlessly south west. He knew only that home lay in that direction, and that he must go on. Rivers would not stop him, nor roads, or mountains. People were a danger, always, especially the ones that meant well and wanted to love and care for him. That could be a prison and he needed to be free.

He paused at the stream and drank his full, his front feet in the water. Refreshed, he went back to the path, skirting the village before dawn. No one saw him pass.