Seen on a bill-board in Leeds. An image of a couple embracing on a couch.
The text: When you find something that feels good, hang on to it!
The product: a cell phone!

Much to ponder here, not least of which is the dodgy personal relationship advice.

In the marketing world it's worth pondering upon, in terms of wisdom, the thinking behind RED. John Humphrys in Beyond Words, How Language Reveals the Way We Live Now sees red on RED Products pages 64 and 65.

John Humphrys sees and says a great many things in this book. Maybe he would have something to say about the use of something in the advert, and more than likely feels good too.

Driving over the Pennines to Penrith. Driving on the M6 motorway. South to Preston Lancashire yesterday, back north this morning. In and out of Westmorland Services for coffee and scone. Listening to the car radio, Radio 4 exclusively. Whizzing along, passing lorries, cars passing me. Sometimes raining and sometimes foggy. Headlights on. Headlights off.

Then, getting back to the monastery, walking up the lane with my bags. Monks from A, or B, Team coming out of kitchen clean-up. Walking up the lane. Trees bare. Sky grey and low. Find my slippers in the gloom. Unpack. Place the donation envelope in the Alms Bowl. Put a receipt for petrol on the Bursars desk, for reimbursement. Secure it under the stapler to make sure it's not lost. Return the satnav to the Bursars cupboard. (What a gem that gadget it.) Quick nap. Hunt up lunch from the kitchen fridge. Microwave. Eat while chatting with a visiting monk from the south.

Yes, it is good to get out and about. To connect up with old friends. To look in the window of peoples lives. To step inside and join them, for a short while. People doing their best to live the practice where they are. Proving the teachings true for themselves. Proving that it is possible to sit still in seemingly intolerable circumstances. To completely live now.

A hat tip to my hosts, and the offer of a brief peek into the window of my driving, windscreen wiping, life. Good to get out and about, and good to get back. And no doubt this is how life is for everybody.

Two women. One in America the other in England. Both have recently received acknowledgment of the contribution they have made in their professional work. They have been promoted. One made President of the company she started out with by doing their accounts from her home. The other potentially being made Head Teacher of the school where she teaches, and as I understand it, in extremely challenging circumstances too.

Such recognition of ones professional ability is no small thing. Yes, there is likely to be all those things that spell 'success' in the world of work: all that comes with greater status, more money as well as extra privileges and 'perks'. Who knows what promotion brings but one thing which is likely is for a rash of jealousy and envy to rise up amongst the ranks. Who has not been disappointed when others receive the public recognition you privately longed for.

I learned about mudita, or more correctly the teaching was pointed out to me, when I was suffering from the private hell of envy. I can't even remember what that was all about now. Mudita is the possibility, the human potential, to have arise naturally a sense of sympathetic or appreciative joy. It's chief characteristic is a happy acquiescence in others' prosperity and success. Knowing that this is possible and can arise out of ones depths naturally, even in the face of crushing disappointment, is one of the great blessings.

One might imagine that Buddhist, religious practitioners, would be 'above' such matters as recognition of ones contribution to society. That it might not have any meaning. Water of a ducks back in fact. Or could it be that there is a natural pride that grows in doing ones best and that we humans wish to join our hands, and applaud such efforts. Effort's which all benefit from, ultimately.

Well done my dear good friends. It really doesn't matter if you accept the accolade or not, the important thing is it was proffered.

Nearly all the retreat guests have gone. We had a good retreat together and I was glad and happy to be talking about Buddhism, practice and the Precepts. Somewhere in there during the week-end we talked about karmic consequence and how one can recognize negative consequences by a palpable disquiet experienced within ones body and mind. One blog reader who appreciates words and their use was taken with these two words so I thought I'd share them with you all.

There were a few Mountains readers here. It was a delight to meet those known to me already as well as those who mentioned being a regular here who I didn't know about. I'm generally amazed that real live people read this and even get something out of it that's useful too. There may well be a few more checking in following the retreat. Welcome if you are one of them.

Iain over in Japan, who set up this blog for me initially, writes about the third anniversary of his fathers death, which is today.

It's The Life of the Precepts retreat this week-end.

The dharma talks (during the retreat) will address in practical terms how we can apply the Precepts in daily life and how the practice of the Precepts is inextricably interconnected with mediation and true wisdom. Taken from the 2007 Retreat Programme flyer.

Many people are here who will be attending Jukai next spring. Jukai is a week-long retreat with a number of ceremonies including The Receiving of the Precepts, which in so doing people formally become a Buddhist. People who do not, or are not able to, attend Jukai are no less Buddhist if the Sixteen Precepts are practiced whole heartedly.

The journey to the monastery, priory, meditation group or temple to receive basic instruction about the practice is perhaps the most important 'ceremony' of all. In fact we say the first ceremony of Jukai IS the journey to the monastery.

Trog waiting at Dinas station on the Welsh Highland line with one of his human family.

I think this little dog is exhibiting bright attention, which is important in terms of following the Precepts and practice in general. My thought for the week-end is 'intention', the Precepts are all about intention: to follow, to refrain, to relinquish, to open to Compassion. And the intention to do the very best one can. It is enough.

That's the last Trog picture for now.

For anybody who suffers from M.E. (also known as chronic fatigue syndrome)or knows somebody who does BBC Radio 4 magazine programme, You and Yours broadcast a series of programs on the subject. You can listen to the audio and there are also full transcripts. Here is David Puttnam (now Lord Puttnam) the film producer talking about the onset of ME.

I'd just come back from a trip to the Far East, I was at Columbia Pictures at the time, and I got - I'd only been back I think a day, day and a half - and I suddenly came up with this tremendous fever, it was extraordinary. And the doctors first of all - first of all being tested for Dengue Fever. I just remember dragging myself into bed and then for about a week - and this is not an exaggeration to say - when I needed to go to the loo it was literally like climbing Everest, I was - by the time I'd climbed back into the bed, been to the loo, I was covered in sweat and utterly exhausted, I was sort of dragging myself across the room. David Puttnam on You and Yours, BBC Radio 4

While still a novice monk at Shasta Abbey I came back to England on a 'family visit. It was 1986 and I remember distinctly reading an article about M.E. in the Sunday paper. At that time this crippling condition was not well known about, in fact it was still being called the Royal Free disease. So named after an outbreak of a strange disease at the Royal Free Hospital in London in 1955. There was much speculation, as there still is, about this condition being all being in the mind. As a fledgling priest I predicted I'd be counselling people while on their journey to get a diagnosis for their unrelenting, and strange, symptoms.

As it has turned out, over the years, I've had quite a lot to do with people suffering from M.E. I've a great sympathy for the mental/emotional suffering, as well as the physical conditions that these people live with, day in and day out. Come to think of it I even diagnose somebody as I was driving from Throssel to catch a train. We were chatting back and forth about his health and I just said, Hum, had you thought this might be M.E.? Turned out it was, sad to say.

Trog, dog of the blog! Jazzy from Edmonton, eat your heart out.

Just having a bit of fun. I'd not want any cat fanciers to have their whiskers bent out of shape due to lack of cat photographs. Which reminds me of a cute cat event I witnessed the other day. Sadly I'd not got my camera with me at the time.

A new postulant was being instructed by the Head Novice. They were sitting in the novices common room gazing intently at a piece of paper on the table. Sitting on the table was Smudge, the novices cat. He was gazing at the paper intently too! It turned out that this was instruction on how, when and where to salt and grit the paths around the monastery. More signs that winter is approaching, not that we have that much snow. Ice, yes. Smudge will be out there stalking wildlife in the snow and ice, given half a chance.

A member of Trog's extended, human, family has recently died. This posting is offered in memory of the newly past on one, and for his family.

We met in the laundry room. Uh! My eyes hurt, it feel like I’ve got sand in them, I said. We do tend to suffer from dry eyes, I’ve a spare tube of Viscotears you can have. We? A moment’s pause. Ah yes, WE and our common concerns that come on with advancing age. I'd not have it any other way.

A couple of years ago I was in Redruth in Cornwall buying a train ticket, Are you a senior? No. Fast catching on to the chance of a reduced fare I ask how old do I have to be. Not old enough unfortunately but quite soon my time will come. Soon I’ll join the ‘we’ of my hero’s and heroines. Many of them are seniors like this woman from Scotland.

Jeanne Day greets the morning cheerfully. Up by 6.30am, she pulls on her tracksuit and heads out in to the bracing Fife air to walk a couple of miles over St Andrews' farmland. Then it's back home for some meditation, floor exercises and a breakfast of fruit. Between 9am and 6.15pm, she is available to teach but if she's not fully booked, she'll take in another long walk or do a spot of gardening, followed by a light supper and more gentle exercises on a cross-trainer. After 8pm, she's often on the phone with family and friends, or keeping up with her emails. Jeanne is 88 years old.

This evening we watched Downfall. The story of Hitler's last ten days as seen through the eyes of Gertraud "Traudl" Humps his youngest private secretary. She stayed with him in the bunker until almost the last moment and was present when Hitler shot himself. The film ends with Traudl walking through the invading troops, hand in hand with a small boy. How things went for her immediately after her escape was, in actual fact, a very different story.

Her death came close after the publication of her book and the premier of the film. Othmar Schmiderer, the producer of the documentary Blind Spot, was among the last people to speak to her. He quoted her as saying: "Now that I've let go of my story, I can let go of my life." From the Traudl Humps Obituary in the Guardian.

We see the now elderly secretary being interviewed* at the beginning and end of the film. I didn't see her defending herself, she was obviously disturbed and found it difficult to forgive the young girl of her past. As she said, she was letting go of her story...at last.

*The interviews were part of Blind Spot: Hitler's Secretary, a 90 minite documentary directed by André Heller and Othmar Schmiderer.

The woman behind the counter at Boots the Chemist had yellow fuzzy ears on. Owww! she said they do pinch. They're giving me a head ache. I'll ask them in the dispensary if they'll give me something. All in a good cause though. It's the BBC Children In Need fund raising day. Oh, and here's a £2 off voucher for hair care products. I'd got my hat on but she knew I was a monk. Well sometimes you grow some, don't you? Finally I agreed to accept the voucher and give it to somebody who could use it. At the electrical shop the man knew right away what size night-light bulbs I needed. The good people of Hexham know us through and through. I enjoy the familiarity of strangers, their kindness and their openness.

And later, after a Chinese lunch back at the monastery, back on the road again south to Harrogate. My chance to sample the tranquility of Northumberland. Perhaps however a tad more solitude than I'd intended having entered into yet another adventure with the TomTom satnav. Climbing up a thin ribbon of black, single track, tarmac out of Weardale I did wonder if this was the fastest or the shortest route I'd chosen. A distinction that is really important when it comes to travel in these parts. As the high moors opened in all their bleakness I'd have been glad of some familiarity of strangers, anybody even a sheep!

I last traveled this road over from Weardale to Teesdale on Good Friday 1990. I remember it well. I remember the stopping and opening and closing of gates, three of them this time! Even then the gates where potent symbols. I was on my way to Reading to be introduced into the ins and outs of running a small church, priory as we called them. That day marked a huge change, from living in the middle of moors to living in a notoriously rough housing estate. Thankfully I came to know that practice is not dependent on tranquil surroundings, I even came to see beauty in the litter blowing in the street.

A good friend is heading off for a big adventure tomorrow. I hope she experiences the kindness of strangers, and chooses the fastest route to return by. I'm still not sure if it was the fastest or the shortest route I took to Harrogate but it certainly gave me enough time and space to contemplate my friends adventure. In the end I chose not to say goodbye. Just good fortune.

To Leeds tomorrow for a day retreat and then back to the moors.