Jukai - Traditional zen Sewing Circle

Turning Japanse - Vapours Video

Treeleaf 2-day retreat

I wanted to write a bit about Jukai from my own viewpoint which is going to be different to the usual outlook.

If you are a Christian you can go to a variety of churches. In some churches such as the Church of England or the Catholic church people dress up according to rank and so you have bishops and priests and archbishops and all sorts of minor roles; even the choir get to dress up. When you see it in a cathedral it' quite a scene being smulatenously beautiful and powerful. In contrast, my church was one that is commonly called "happy-clappy". Here no-one dresses up in ancient costumes even if everyone likes to dress smart for a Sunday. Naturally different types of churches think the other type is somehow a little wrong. Even the rebel happy-clappy churches would argue about the rightness or not of other happy-clappy churches.

From time to time people might make 'secret' trips into other rebel churches to check them out. Sometimes it was also a way to meet more datable people.

Despite all these different labels and styles all the churches had in common something that was a variation of baptism. Baptism is a ceremony that marked you as a 'serious' and 'committed' Christian. You can see how that's worked out for me.

Anyway in my church Baptism was no-big thing and it was a big thing. From time to time baptism classes would be run for those who requested it. The classes would be run over a number of weeks and cover Christianity 101. After that time those who wanted to commit would go through the ceremony. Sometimes ISTR the classes could be skipped if it was clear that people already were clear about what they were doing.

The ceremony in my church featured a special pool. You'd maybe say a few words and then walk into this small pool and kneel down. The preacher would then say a few words - "I now baptise you in the name of the father, the son and the holy spirit" and would push you quickly under the water to completely immerse you. As you emerged from the water the church would be singing whatever churchy song you had chosen.

Baptism was about making a committment to God and in no small part a committment to the church although baptism was transferrable to other churches in general.

The church effectively was split into people who had been baptised and those who had not although the distinction wasn't clear it was there. What baptism seemed to do is to give people more of a right to pick you up if you started to drift. It didn' make any practical difference in the church.

Now I'll write about Jukai and you might see the similarity of function.

I haven't been through Jukai and I think I'm now past the point where I'd want to do it or see the benefit of it for me. However, being baptised and being a member of a church was at the time a big and helpful thing for me and Jukai gives similar feelings and benefits to those who take it.

Jukai then contains a number of aspects.

It starts with sewing. Over the course of several weeks a candidate will sew a bib or a sheet the hard way - out of lots of smaller pieces of fabric. The sewing is of itself educational. When not sewing the candidate is expected to continue to regularly stare at a wall. The wall stares back and the wall always wins. This is as educational as the sewing.

In between the sewing and the staring at walls the candidate might be studying Buddhism 101 and interacting with a teacher in some way.

After several weeks the candidate has sewn a nice little bib or sheet that they can then wear when staring at a wall in the future.

Now the main ceremony begins.

There is some chanting and bowing and wall-staring. The student in a ceremony receives from the teacher a new buddhist name and a receipt. The receipt is proof that Jukai has been taken and from whom and ISTR tells them their new name.

The name is chosen by the teacher from a traditonal set of a few thousand names typically. The name is presented with the words "You're my bitch now!" or not.

At Jukai a candidate can opt to be a lay or monk practicioner. The monk has a higher standard to live up to and a more austere life to lead.

What Jukai does then is allow a person to make a 'public' committment to Zen/Buddhism and to one Sangha (athough it's transferrable). In Jukai the past is left behind and a new life begins.

Through Juakai you become a Budhdist in the same way as through Baptism you become a Christian. It's an adult informed decision.

Although Baptism and Jukai appear different they actually share the same symbolism, structure and intent. The intent is to bond people together under a common cause. The intent is to add meaning to lifestyle choices and to make it easier to stick to those choices.

It can have side-effects. It can make people proud and boastful. I at times sufferred from the same thing as a Christian. I used to wear at times the pin badges that marked me out as different and superior. It was a phase. I got over it.

There are many variations and some buddhist sects use "empowerments". "Empowerments" give you permission to stare at walls in a certain way. It's a way in which enthusiasm can be curbed or people controlled.

I can see why people take Jukai and part of me really misses the sense of belonging that baptism gave. At the same time I also feel that for me taking it would be a denial of who I am; an attempt at self-deception; an attempt to adopt a spiritual daddy and an attempt to be deliberately different from everyone I know.

I think for me it boils down to the fact that since I cannot stop the process that I started taking a vow to continue with it is redundant.

So I'm basically a fan of Jukai even if I don't think it's for me.

Death of a Troll (2)

Taigu's talk on Zen Original Face (Talk starts after 50 minutes of wall-staring. You may wish to fast-forward) [We are both Buddha and Deluded AT THE SAME TIME]

It's funny how when you write something you think you are being clear and yet it doesn't appear that way to others. Taigu talked about the same sort of things but perhaps more clearly and so listen to him as well.

There is ISTR an old Koan:

What is Buddha?
Buddha is you pretending to be a Buddha

There is a subtle form of end-gaining and a subtle form of denial that can disguise itself as spiritual practice. There is a sbutle form of rejection that can happen in the opposite way as well.

The expression "from time to time we all fall off the Zafu" sums up the issue quite nicely.

It encapsulates the idea that somehow we can be perfect and somehow there is the potential to be this perfect person and these times when we appear to fail at that are mere abberations that can be eliminated and are not really us.

For other people they can have times when the fall onto the Zafu and then after a while appear to fall into old habits. Was the Zafu an abberation.

There is behind this all the idea that there is one way that we are that we like and another way that we are that we dislike. That we are only OK sometimes.

In the cartoon book "Jellyfish Bones" you have a character called "The Great Liberator" who captures people and then sets them free. He's a form of conman. He captures both the Free and the UnFree but he doesn't capture those who are neither free nor unfree. That's the heart of the matter.

In the end you have to come to realize that "failing" is no more not-you than "succeedng" and so ultimately what you have to do is come to terms with the fact that you are always you regardless of whether or not you like or dislike what you do.

At the heart of the story were two trolls. Many would argue that their troll-like behaviour was a mis-representation of the facts or that their troll-like behaviour was a momentary lapse.

In fact I don't think it's either of those things. I think it's largely a matter of perspective. One man's crusade is another's trolling. Both people were being themselves AT THAT TIME. They didn't get posessed by evil spirits. They weren't having relapses, they were being themselves.

I know from my own life that I cannot stop being myself. When I act it is me that acts. When I do something I regret the blame lies with me. There is no perfect me. My good days and my bad days both arise out of me.

That does not mean that I'm not responsible but just that it is all just me being me.

To quote Taigu "We are not stuck in one state. We are not stuck in one role..."
Sometimes we can behave like Buddhas and sometimes we can behave like Assholes. We are in truth neither of these things - they are just the appearance that happens when we stick a label on something.

We can seek to become more like one than the other but in doing so we must not forget that these things are not real.

Ultimately I think you just give up trying to BE anything in particular and in doing so you are by default being yourself. It might or might not be wise to change who you are but ultimately who you are today is who you are today.

The "giving up" that I'm talking about here is a final quitting. The realization that deep, deep down that trying to be anything, to chase anything is pointless. You find that out by chasing and searching until there is absolutely nowhere left to search, no rock unturned, no nook unexplored. The point where you cannot conclude "So this is it. I'm fucked". Giving up arises from that point. That is the point where you cease trying to be something you are not. That is the point where you cease holding people to account for not being other than who they are. That is the point perhaps when people are just people, not types-of-people.

It's well worth listening to Taigu's talk. Listening and reading stuff doesn't help much with Zen; you have to experience it in your bones and in your flesh; but even so such things can help affirm your direction. Zen has to be lived.

Moving On

The hardest things to do are the ones that you don't want to acknowledge you are avoiding. The second hardest things to do are the ones that you know you are avoiding.

In theory I want to spend some money getting the house up together. In practice I seem reluctant to do that. The house hasn't had any money spent on it for quite some time due to having to pay for a divorce and legal bills but there is money saved that I can use to do these things and of course I have the money from selling the sports car.

The things that need doing need doing because they are worn out. The kitchen is about 20 years old and some of the handles are falling off (and cannot be fixed). Several rooms need a lick of paint. Some curtains are also 20 years old and look very tired and have done so for some time. Never mind that some carpets are worn out as well.

There is this long list of things that I think needs to be done and money sitting there to do it but the two are not quite meeting up.

I've ordered brochures for Kitchen Cabinets and so on and got as far as sketching the current kitchen dimensions and layout but haven't taken it further than that - booking a sales call or visiting a showroom to talk to someone for instance. I could give you reasons why I think I haven't done that but I know that reasons cannot always be trusted. For now I seem reluctant.

I've got the number of a decorator that I could call and his prices are affordable or I could do the work myself (I usually do) but I havent'd done that either. Again I feel reluctane to make the call. I don't want to seem to find 3 days to do the work myself and I don't seem keen to let a stranger into my house just yet or something. Again I'm not sure that I can trust my own excuses on this.

Finally there are the curtains. The main curtains in the living room are 20 years old and were bought off-the-shelf on a very tight budget when I bought the place. I bought what I could find to fit the window and the price and that didn't give me many options. The second set of curtains I'm replacing are probably 15 year's old and I inheritted them when I bought the house - the old owner didn't take them to heaven with her. At the time we didn't think we could afford to replace the curtains or didn't want to and so left them.

There is a good quality and large curtain shop in my high street and I walk past it most lunchtimes. On saturday I'd pencilled in "Go curtain shopping" but only did it half-heartedly. I had a quick look at fabrics in the shop but hadn't taken measurements or colour samples with me.

On Monday I arranged to take mum up with me as a second pair of eyes and as a second source of ideas. This basically gave me a deadline. On Monday morning after breakfast I reluctantly stopped putting off measuring up and measured up the two windows and photo-shopped the measurements onto a picture so that it was clear to everyone what was wanted.

I spent some time in the shop with mum and a very helpful assistant rifling through hundreds of samples and in the end picked out two that I'd eyeballed on Saturday in the first place. On Saturday I'd spotted one fabric as a "definite buy" and another as a "think and buy". On Saturday I must have spent all of 10 minutes shopping in there.

On Monday it took over an hour to reach the same decision but on monday I did actually hand over some money and get curtains ordered. They'll be ready within two weeks.

Whilst there mum and I did disagree on things but that's fine; our tastes are different and I spend a lot of time working with colours and fabrics. What was interesting to me however was how unused I am to a constant dialogue of "I like this" "This one is horrible" "This colour is wrong" "This one is too....." It seemed strange to me to dis a fabric for not fitting into your own requirements.

It was strange to hear me talk about fabrics and colours. I can be quite demanding and I'm not used to hearing that. It seems that I do have strong ideas about what I do and do not want. I'm not certain that the curtains will work in my house but reasonably certain. "Reasonably Certain" is where decisions have to be made.

After curtain shopping I found myself a little upset and restless. It was like buying the curtains meant accepting that I was going to be living here for some time yet and that I was planning to be single for a while more and that I was looking towards some future and that I wasn't epecting a financial emergency to appear and......

I'm not used to planning for the future any more and find it difficult to do. I'm not used to having money available for such things and am finding it difficult to spend. It's like I'm reluctant to believe that the past is past.

In the afternoon I basically gave up on worked, stopped billing time and went shopping. I've been and bought a different type of art pencil and a different type of paper. All the books I've read say "experiment and see what works for you" and all the books agree that cheap paper is a waste of time.

When I was in the shop I was fondling paper - running my finger over the surfacce - to feel the difference between medium, smooth and extra-smooth (Bristol Board). There were clear differences. I inhaled and bought a book of Bristol Board - which is easily twice as expensive as any other paper).

Last night I sat down with pencils and paper and started on recreating a drawing from a photo to practice shading and seeing. The drawing isn't finished but I'm guessing I spent a good three hours doing that. It's not wonderful but I can see that it looks a lot better for me concentrating on shapes and colours that I can see rather than seeing "skin" and "eyes" and "breasts". One thing that was stressed in one book is that the name that you assign to what you see will dictate what you see. If instead of "eye" you name it "circle" you will draw a better eye.

When I've finished this drawing (or when I stop) I'll then go and use a different set of pencils on the Bristol Board and see which looks better.

Now it's time to work.

OBTW In chatting to mum I realized that it's now rare for me to not get a solid night of sleep even if that sleep seems short or restless at times. I'm no longer aware of waking up several times a night. That' progress!

Mis-Perception

"Real artists don't use rulesrs"

"Real artists don't rub stuff out"

"Real artists don't 'cheat'"

"Real artists draw what they see not what they think they see".

One teacher, one problem. Many teachers, many problems.

I've got a few books now on how to draw and they all say slightly different things - even down to how to do shading and how to hold a pencil. In order to do a lot of stuff I'm actually holding a pencil very differently from how I learnt at school - more like a wand and that feels a little odd but it also works.

The biggest shock for me yesterday was in reading a book about faces. The book was saying that everyone initially draws what they think they see not what they do see. So for example people tend to put the eyes in the wrong place. Even as I looked at her pictures of faces I was still thinking "She's wrong, the eyes are not where she said". So I did what she did and took a ruler and measured. That was depressing.

Then I went back through some of my very early drawings (mid 2008!!!!) and looked at them. In most but not all of the drawings I'd not drawn what I'd seen but what I thought I'd seen - basically a pattern recalled from memory not what was actually on paper.

This is sooooo Buddhism 101 that it's depressing.

However, this woman used to teach people to draw composite faces (i.e. Mugshots) for the FBI before they used computers. She'd teach people in less than a week to draw properly. A week!!!!!! Her book is pepperred with 'before' and 'after' photos so I can see that the people starting her course were no better or worse than me.

So, her lessons are all about Paying Attention to what you ACTUALLY see and she teaches some basic techniques for this which I need to practice.

Sometimes I can see that my drawings were 'accurate' but mostly not. So it's a case of using what I can already do more consciously.

Her book "Secrets to drawing Realistic Faces" lays out everything in simple steps and takes a way a lot of the mysticism that many art books seem to assume. Many books assume you need 'artistic aptitude' and a few assume you need to be willing to learn.

I spent several hours on Sunday practicing using shading techniques with coloured pencils. I've drawn an apple, a piece of wood and some fabric. They all taught me different things - like I'm not great at drawing fabric today.

For now I'm savouring the irony of all this stuff.

I have a notepad where I used pictures to explore my psyche and my delusions and I have another pad where I draw my 'real' drawings of physical things and of cartoony things. In order to draw 'real' drawings I'm simply going to have to work on seeing through my delusions. All I need to do is to know that they are there and be willing to see them. A ruler doesn't lie, nor do the results; eyes are not where I think I see them. Now I need to practice seeing the way things are and practice using a ruler or whatever will help me to do that.

Delusions are inexhaustible;
I vow to end them.

Fucking ironic eh!

Hurting on the edge of the envelope

Last night was I guess THE big dance of the year.

Back in october a friend had been pressing me to sign up so that they could book me onto their table. At the time the dance seemed a long way away and at the time I was also hoping that friends from a differnet club would be there. Nevertheless I did say yes and book onto the table for what seemed like the distant future. It's just as well that I did because if I'd held out for a plan B I would have been at home watching X-Factor.

The dance was a Black Tie dinner dance at what is probably the best ballroom within 30 miles of me. I thought the ticke price wasn't cheap when I booked it but when I was there it was clear that it was a sumptuous affair and so the price didn't look so bad after all. Everyone was dressed up and it was really nice to see all these people in different outfits dressing for the fun of dressing with the men wearing a variety of Dinner Jackets - some pushing the envelope of "Black Tie" and the women in a variety of Ball Gowns or whatever they felt they wanted to wear.

I wore conventional Black Tie colours but I wore a shirt that I'd modified to fit some very sparkly 'crystal' studs. I also on friday modified a standard wine cummerbund and bowtie set by adding lots of sparkly clear rhinestones onto it. Together with sparkly cufflinks the effect was as if someone had added sparkles to a Black Tie outfit. I'm willing to bet it looked really nice under the lights.

The night kicked off for me about 7pm with a drinks reception before moving into the ballroom where dining tables had been laid out for a 7.45pm meal. By 9:30pm we'd finished a nice three course christmas meal and were getting ready for the dancing.

Sometimes there was live music and sometimes there was a DJ. The dancefloor was mostly crowded. It required everyone to pay attention to what they were doing.

At one point early in the evening I took an elbow into the ribs from someone else's dance partner. It was hard enough that I thought I'd do a dramatic stagger and faint onto the dance-floor as a joke. I thought I'd left a little bit of gap between contact and faint to capture the joke part of it but from what the woman I was dancing with said it looked real.

It was probably rude of me to do that fake faint. It is difficult to avoid collisions when the floor is really crowded and even if you try. In this case I knew the woman concerned and felt that she's such a good dancer that it wouldn't hurt if she carried a bit more awareness onto the dancefloor. Later in the evening she did decline a dance with me so maybe she took it poorly. Ah well.

For large chunks of the evening I felt like I was really enjoying myself. I was looking around at all these people I knew dressed up and I was having fun dancing. This time last year I'd barely started going to weekend dances and now here I am a year later...

It felt really nice to be able to enjoy these things. It felt really nice to know that I was wearing clothes that I'd designed and dancing quite well with a variety of women. If there was a person I wanted to be and a life I wanted to lead this seemed to be definitely in the right ballpark.

As the night wore on I noticed sometimes that I'd start to think about other random things. I noticed that when thoughts started to appear there was also a bit of physical discomfort - like the prelude to a panic attack.

I know from experience that in some scenarios thinking is a way that I distract myself from 'being fully present' and it's a way that I try and regain control when things are beginning to feel too much for me.

At some point after 11:30pm it felt like there was too much thinking going on for me to be able to relax and enjoy the dancing and it felt like I was becoming tired and had a sense that things were starting to bubble up from the depths.

I decided around 11:45pm that I'd call it a night. I had planned to dance till 1pm for the practice but that no longer seemed wise.

On the drive home I was a little upset that I'd hit my limits and was starting to experience symptoms that are all too familiar to me. OTOH I was pleased that I'd gone out dancing with friends and been me and dressed how I wanted and danced how I wanted.

Early in the evening my goal of dancing for two days solid at this dance weekend seemed achievable. At around 11:45 it seemed not achievable. I'll work on it.

I did try to sneak out of the venue but in fact bumped into a friend on the way out so did have to say a proper goodbye. He 'knew' why I was leaving. Everyone who knows me is used to me leaving dances 'early' when I hit my limits.

I know from experience that if I stay past the point where random thoughts are arising and I'm starting to feel anxiety then things can become quite unpleasant for me. Recently I've not been willing to go there. I'm not certain what is best from an exposure therapy viewpoint but I don't always have the stomach for such work.

Last night it'll come as no surprise to hear that I slept poorly. This time however a theme repeated from in the week. Whilst asleep at times it felt like I was having an anxiety attack even though I was at the stage of sleep where you don't physically move around. Odd.

I have a mental idea of a training schedule to prepare me for this dance weekend. Basically I want to be going to 3 dances a week for as long as I feel able. That means I will be tired the next day and that means that I will be anxious at the end of each one.

For me to become more fully me I need to practice and work through these things. Whenever I relax down more than average or whenever I'm very tired the undealt with emotions/feelings will surface. The anxiety stuff is jsut the prelude to that. I cannot fully relax if part of me is denied and repressed. It's just gonna take practice.

Tody, Sun I'm gonna have an easy day and I think I plan to practice some drawing after eating out somewhere and after packing away the sports car and spares ready for adoption.

Today I'm happy that I went to the dance and had fun. I'm happy that when I left I ended up having to do so in a way that was 'honest'. I'm happy that I really enjoy wearing clothes that I've desinged as part of the experience and I'm happy that I can dance reasonably well and a reasonable variety of moves now. I'm much less happy that my life still seems to be dominated by symptoms management at times but I'm happy that I'm willing to work on that to shrink down (maybe to zero one day) when it happens.

Most of all I'm happy about the progress made over the last year. A year feels a long time but maybe it isn't. I don't know.

I do know that I'm attempting to book into a second dance weekend in the new year. There are several more throughout the year. I'm minded to book on everyone I can find. It may take 2,3,4,5? but one day with practice I will get to the point where I am able to do it. I just have to try and know when to quit and when to press on. That's do-able.

Now it's time to go and live today.

Update:
I've now booked on a weekend in Jan so that makes two in the next two months. After the first one I think I'll go and book some more.

Death of a Troll

I've had a poor night's sleep and was going to write about Jukai - Baptism for Buddhists - but instead a Fairy-Tale wants to be born.

Once upon a time long, long a go in DogenLand there were two kings Goud and Ood. The kings ran their own little kingdoms and anyone for a while was welcome to visit.

In the kingdom of Ood there were many who came to honour the king and many more that came to pay their disrespects. In the Kingdom of Ood there were many people with loud voices and foul tempers. There were also a few parrots and robots.

From time to time in DogenLand giant trolls would roam through tearing up trees, knocking down huts and terrifying or eating some of the natives.

The two biggest trolls were both rumoured to be lost children of King Goud but it was just a rumour. Goud didn't seem to be very troll-like to those who claimed to know him and speak for him. The two giant trolls were known affectionately as Chood and Jound. Chood was the larger of the two and slightly bald. Chood would roar at anything that moved. If it didn't move he'd roar at it to get fucking moving. (Legend has it that Goud had a troll ancestor but it was just a legend).

Jound was a different kind of troll, a ninja-troll. Most of the time Jound would appear to be quietly sleeping and peaceful and then from time to time he'd wake up and become more fearsome than the shorter-haired Chood.

When these big beasts were on the rampage many of the robots and natives would dive for cover. However, there were others who rejoiced in their shadow.

For anywhere that big trolls do roam little trolls can also be found. The Kingdom of Ood was a place where many trolls would pass through and attempt to emulate the bigger scarier trolls. Often the trollettes couldn't understand the bigger trolls but they despised the robots for being unemotional.

Whereas the big trolls would roar and stomp and terrify people the little trollettes didn't have that level of strength. Instead the trollettes would sometimes behave like foreigners and sometimes try to behave like big trolls.

The Trolls and the Trollettes both had the same mission. Both wanted to prove that the Kingdoms of Goud and Ood were not benign and that the natives were weak-willed drunken followers.

Most of all the Trolls and the Trollettes seemed to hate anyone who wasn't them.

One day Goud became fed up and raised an army and banished Chood from DogenLand. Chood spent many years trying to re-enter the kingdom but the army kept him out. Eventually Chood spent some time wandering alone in the vast forests of Europa shouting at trees and birds but it wasn't the same.

Jound was different; Jound stomped out of the kingdom of Ood and created his own kingdom amongst the trees and the clouds.

From time to time Jound tries to relive his troll past but he doesn't seem to recapture the glory days. Chood meanwhile seems to be slowly losing the will to stomp and shout and fight. Although both trolls have mellowed this fairytale is not about them.

Instead, it is about one of the trollettes that wander through the Kingdom of Ood. This trollette was called Ginz. Ginz aspired to be like one of the giant trolls such as Chood and Jound but he didn't have the weight that these giants had. Ginz made up for lack of weight by stealth and by cunning. Ginz knew how to annoy the natives and foreigners in the Kingdom of Ood. Most of all Ginz liked to play with the Robots. Ginz thought that the robots were full of shit and it was his personal mission to prove it by finding a way to re-engage their emotional circuitry.

Ginz used to watch the robots plug themselves into a wall and sit their and he used to laugh. "What the fuck are these losers doing?" he would ask himself.

For many years Ginz roamed the kingdom of Ood. Was he looking for trouble? Was he looking for something? King Ood let the trollettes roam. Many people come into Dogenland and they claim to be there for many different reasons but reasons don't count.

The years went by and Ginz grew weary. Sometimes he'd get a reaction from a robot and sometimes the robots would transform into trolls and get a reaction from him. Ginz hated that. It wasn't fair that robots could transform into mega-trolls. Slowly Ginz began to become nervous. Was that a robot or a transforming robot-troll? He couldn't tell.

The years went by and gradually Ginz began to wonder "Maybe some of these robots are not full of shit". "Maybe there is something to all of this bullshit?" "Maybe I should find out for myself".

One day, in a big fanfare Ginz left the Kingdom of Ood to go and live in the Kingdom of Steev. Ginz vowed to become a subject of Steev and to live a little by the rules of the Kingdom of Steev.

Ginz declared "The Great Experiment". For one year Ginz would sit regularly and follow the exercises given to him by King Steev. The exercises were like a portable wall that robots could stare at.

Ginz vowed to start with the exercises for just 10 minutes a day and slowly as the year went by he would do more and more every day until he was doing several hours every day. Ginz also vowed to write about it.

This was a brave experiment. This would prove once and for all to Ginz and others whether or not the Robots were full of shit. It would prove it by a Trollette trying to become a Robot by doing what Robots do.

The months went by and slowly but surely Ginz's hair began to fall out. Ginz also met a beautiful princess who loved him; but would bitch-slap him if he behaved too much like his hero Chood.

As the months went by Ginz began to notice his baldness and began to feel the cold chill of having less fur.

Before the year was up Ginz quit The Great Experiment and ran away to live with his beautiful princess. A wise troll isn't afraid of pussy!

Many years went past and although the experiment never finished it did continue. Ginz kept doing his exercises because he wanted to and because he quite liked the feeling of sun on his skin and not having this prickly hair.

Once more Ginz travelled to the Kingdom of Ood. This time it was different. The Kingdom was full of trollettes and although they didn't have the skills of Ginz or the raw poor of Chood or Jound they did make a hell of a racket. Eventually even King Ood despaired and banished everyone from the kingdom of Ood.

Then something unexpected happened. Ginz created a refuge for the people from the Kingdom of Ood. Many people came over to visit this new land. Many found a surprise awaiting them. Sometimes Ginz would appear to be a little like a Robot and sometimes he would appear to be a bit like a Trollette. The odd thing was that after learning to be more like a Robot he was better at being a Trollette when he wanted to be. But mostly he was better at being a Robot. Without the spiky hair he was a lot less troll and a lot more robot.

This fairytale has a sad ending. So many trolls have died. Some are dying and Ginz who thought he was the biggest baddest troll ever has become amicable and a little robot-like.

Of course there were never really any Robots or Trolls but instead there were people who wanted to deny their Robotness or their Trollness and thus created Robots or Trolls.

For now the Kingdom of Ood is allowing visitors and King Ood has decided that being pure Robot isn't the answer.

As for me? Well, I'm not a Robot or a Troll but I too can be them if that's what I want. I don't live in any kingdom even if I enjoy playing tourist. From time to time I've enjoyed hunting Robots. From time to time I've enjoyed hunting Trolls. I greatly prefer to hunt pussies but I don't seem to be very good at that.

Now it's time for me to go and live my life, not the life that some King dead or alive says I should live.

…

Incidentally, the title "Death of a Troll" was consciously written but I think the rest of the post wrote itself. Or maybe it didn't. I'm not sure. All I can say is that you are looking at the first draft with typos corrected.

Re-Union

Recently some people from my distant past made contact with me. They are people from the church I once went to (now demolished) 20 or so years ago. Even the youngest of us is middle-aged now.

In 20 years people do a lot of living and my own life is certainly unrecognizable from those days. In fact most of what counts as my life today wasn't things that I was doing in those days. Most of what I do today was repressed potential back then.

Anyway, when first contacts were made via Facebook I did say hi to one or people and allow friending. Then I waited to see what happenned. Nothing happenned. I didn't have any real desire to communicate with them or interact in the normal Facebooky way and they didn't have any interaction with me.

This then looked like remembering an old friendship rather than attempting to rekindle an old one or start a new one.

After much thought I decided that a re-union wasn't something I wanted to do. I've lived rather a lot in the last 20 years and I don't wish to compare lives with people I once knew and I don't wish to talk about all that has gone on in those years. I also don't wish to lie about it.

Fate being what it is a number of random things (or acts of [a] God) meant that someone repeated a contact attempt and was looking for a definite answer from me beyond the fact I'd not marked the Facebook event.

So I've responded politely with a potted summary of the last 20 year in a few hundred words that emphasie who I am today and how different I am from the person I once was. I've also asked them to say "Hi to some people for me. I've also pointed them at this blog so that they can read it if they wish and then there is also a way by which a new friendship could be established based on who we all are today.

The thing is at this time I really did not want to go and have a face-2-face reunion talk with people. I think that at this time I would find that distressing and so since it's optional I choose not to.

It also so happens that there is a dance on that night that I'm really looking forward to going to and I am of course making a nice sparkly outfit for it. It feels better for me to carry on building today's life rather than visiting the life that once was.

That isn't of course the whole picture.

This week my dreams have been very restless an chaotic. It's cyclic and it's not unrelated tot the fact that work is very busy. Given I'm working on retail and warehousing systems this is now the busiest time of the year. My job is about making sure Christmas happens for many, many people.

But also, I cannot go back to those times in my past without also thinking of how I was then and that wasn't a good place to visit. Last night after dancing I had a crappy night's sleep as all sorts of things seemed to swirl through me mind - memories of how I used to be, memories of who I am today and fantasies about all the things that could have been "if only....." It wasn't a fun night.

These days I focus a lot of my time on building a new life and a new future. Mostly I try and ignore how hard that can be. Sometimes I'm reminded.

Last night at the dance lesson I did the full two hour lesson but didn't feel much like doing freestyle even if I was in a flirting mood. I was just a bit tired.
I was also aware that in a few week's time I'm booked in for a weekend of dancing. Yesterday I felt the gap somewhat.

Yesterday I was reminded that for many people who dance the idea of a weekend doing it is a fun and exciting thing that requires no real preparation. For me it's something I have to work towards. I can do that. I worked towards going to dances in the first place.

In one sense I'm not happy at pushing away people I once knew but it also feels like what's right for me at this time. Maybe that will upset some people but they do at least have an explanation that's honest. It'll probably be a shock. Sorry about that!

Anyway, now it's time to go and work and make sure that people who ordered things will get them.

...............
This is the post I was going to write:

Are you living the dream?
Or is the dream living you?