Attempting to keep true to my word I have been responding to comments. Although some of my answers are personal, because I actually know the person (in person) they do contain ‘content’ which may be of interest.

What Do We Say?

I’ve not been shy about wishing people Merry Christmas and the like however I have noticed a certain fluffing of lines coming back to me in return. Perhaps our neighbours are sensitive to the fact that we are Buddhist and a bit floored that we would acknowledge Christmas.

Anyway I was particularly pleased to read this article, ‘Tis The Season written by a monk of our Order. He too is Merry Christmassing.

I’d keep an eye out for more articles on Lions Gate Buddhist Priory web site. They will be found under the heading From Dragon Flower Mountain towards the bottom left side of the home page.

It has been great to see so many readers turning out to leave a comment. Keep ’em coming. Doing that encourages others to do the same.

Not To Get Ahead

Winter Greetings From Northumberland from Mugo on Vimeo.

Not Video – Yet

Snow in the lane.
The start of a yet to be uploaded greetings video.

Here you see me in full cold weather gear. Hopefully I’ll be able to upload the video tomorrow.

Not To Do

Buddha sitting under the Bo Tree with Buddha Banner. Leeds Retreat, early December.

‘Tis the eve of Christmas now and all through the house not a creature is stirring, not even a mouse. The food has been eaten, the dishes all washed, the candles extinguished, dah, dah, dee, dah dee dah dee dah! The world is nestled all snug in bed. (miss the next bit…) And now I’m settling my brain for a long winter’s nap. After The Night Before Christmas poem. Quite a long way after!

Outside from my high vantage point all is in darkness, in a ghostly light. Snow. Moonlit snow. Blue. Is that a car picking it’s way down on the Alston road? Across the valley a farm light is on. Closer the tree tubes stand sentinel around the cemetery. Up there high to the left, the moon. A sulky moon? Sulking in mist. Now shine, now not shine. An icicle glints a shaft of clear light. Now gone, with the moon.

When the world goes to bed it is, sometimes, good not do the same. Not always so easy to not do the same. Generally.