Sometimes I sits an thinks and sometimes I jist sit. Sometimes I jist sit on the wee dykie at the bottom o the gairdin. I dinna think aboot onythin in parteecular bit it's affa fine jist sittin there. It struck me that this wiz probably fit "meditation's" aboot. Patanjali pulled thegithir fit thinkin thir wiz on meditation and yoga mair than a thoosin 'ear ago. His wee bookie's ca'd, "The Aphorisms of Patanjali" so, fin this tune cam intae ma heed 'n I noticed that it wiz in waltz time, I thocht I'd ca't "Three Aphora".
I wiz sittin at the windae in the wee roomie o ma hoose. It hid been grey miserable wither for weeks bit this day the sun cam oot 'n wiz shinin in through the lace curtains. Fin I lookit oot I saw that the leaves wiz beginnin tae turn broon so the plants wiz slowin doon for the winter - bit sine a couple o blackies cam chirpin and chasin on the greenie. Jist then, for a wee meenty, I quid see that the life force in the plants, in the blackies and in me wiz the same. I noticed the feelin cause I'd been readin aboot it in the Kena Upanishad far it reckons, in Sanskrit, that kennin aboot (CHIT) the wye things really is (SAT) maks yi feel really good (ANANDA). So I ca'd the tune 'Merry Chit Sat' although 'Cozy Chit Chat' or 'Frantic Chip Fat' wid iv deen jist as weel.
I hid a session aye time wi an Indian lad ca'd Ranganathan. He'd a reed spot on the middle o his pow an' 'e played the bodhran though 'e ca'd it a tambour. He reckoned that the 'Wild Mountain Thyme' wiz an al Indian tune. Some o' the stuff they've bin finnin oot fae archaeology and sociolinguistics wid gaar yi gae some credit tae this notion. I'd been readin aboot the history o the indoeuropean languages fin this tune cam intae ma heed so I ca'd it 'Indo-Euro'.
I wiz gaun tae see a man aboot a job bit I went tae the lavvie first 'n it widnae flush awa 'n I didnae get the job - I winnert if this wiz hid onythin tae dae wi Jungian synchronicity - bit, fitivir, it wiz a fashish jobbie a' roon.
I wrote this tune on Remembrance Day. I've been mortared and shot at 'n I ken the excitement 'n the fear o't. But I'm here tae tell the tale. Durin the last big European war there wiz an affa lot o North East loons kilt. Fit for? Fa startit it? Fit good did it dee? ... Weel weel, bit at least in this country we're gaun through a phase far it could be said that, like the lads that deet last time, we've 'Feenisht Fechtin'.
In the al Celtic legends Yggdrasil was the tree that jined up airth and heavin and stoppit the sky fae fa'in on wir heeds. In them days they didnae hae psychiatrists but they did hae druidic witchdoctors. They didnae hae universities as such and thir wasnae ony exams tae pass - yi becam a witchdoctor because o the kinda places yir heed had been. The wye they telt the story, the witchdoctors had sat in a nest in Yggdrasil far the 'Gods' had telt them aboot fit happens in 'the beyond'. So it wisnae jist a case o 'kennin aboot' the idea o heavin on airth, they hid experienced it. That's mair than can be said aboot maist Church o Scotland Meenisters these days.
Afore a kipper wiz a pretty lump o stuff wrapped up in plastic in a supermarket it was a herring swimming aboot in the sea. I'm nae a vegetarian cause I ken that carnivores exist and that death is necessary. Fit worries me sometimes is the extent tae fit kids nooadays kin be brocht up athoot kennin onythin ithir than manmade environments. They're brocht up in a cotton wool cloud cuckoo land o cement and concrete and TV 'n shoppin malls. So they're livin a lee thit jist happens tae be 'non-sustainable'. It canna be guid tae dae that tae kids heeds bit that's fit 'progress' hiz deen - 'n mair or less in my lifetime. 'N its nae jist the city kids - even the kids fae the wee placies along the coast here hardly ivir go 'explorin' tae places that dinnae hae signposts, safety rails, picnic spots and public conveniences.
I wrote this tune aifter I took ma sister tae the airport fin she wiz gaun hame tae her office job in the air pollution aside London. I wiz thinkin o the rush and bustle o cities and the clackin o typewriters and the bangin o filin cabinet doors. We eest tae ca ma sister 'Mud' and she works in the fast lane sooth o Huntly so I ca'd the tune 'Mud Flies'.
The Flower Ornament Scripture or Avatamsaka Sutra gings on for fifteen hunner and echteen pages n wiz written by some Indian gudgies aboot echteen hunner ears ago. Its relentless in the wye it taks apairt the diffrint wyes thit fouk get thir heeds messed up - n then it gets yokit intae explainin a the diffrint things fouk kin dee tae fin the peace that passes all understanding. The patience n energy that went intae the writin ots nae easy tae figure.
The Huainanzi is een o the Taoist classics bit it wiz pit thegithir twa or three hunner ear efter the early classics fae Lao Tze and Chuang Tzu. The early eens hid bin writtin during the warrin states period fin social chaos wiz the order o the day. Hugh n Auntie wiz pit thegithir durin een o they short periods o peace in our time a wee whiley o well fed chirpiness fin the politicians wiz honest n weel meanin.
73 The Tin Coffin Waltz
I quid see the lorry driver in his cab bein fair annoyt. The boy in front hid his missis wi im. Neethir o them lookit a day alow 90. The boys face hid that aye fit in the ithir warl look aboot it bit he hidna geen up tryin. Hope springs eternal. Far thirs life thirs hope! I hid a fleetin vision o the pair o them drivin doon tae the cemetry in thir tin coffin on wheels. Then, fin they got there, theyd hae a read of the Tibetan Book o the Deed tae git thir heeds ready for the next stage.
75 Where eer you roam
Ive traivilt abbot the warl mair than maist n Ive met in wi a kin o fouk. In the beginnin yi notice hoo diffrint fouk are bit, as yi git aller n wizer, yi notice hoo fouk are really a the same in aneth. For the maist pairt its like the Buddha said, all life is suffering bit, n this is the hopefae bit, thir is a cure, n, if yir lucky, yi come across some healthy fouk noo n again. Ive bin rale lucky that wye.
76 Knickers in a Twist
Its nae a that often that Ive bin amang ithir fouk this last whily bit, fin I hiv been, the thing I notice maist is thir restlessness. Yid expect this amangst young fouk bit I seem tae find it in abody. Naebodys seekin time tae stand and stare abodys aiftir distraction o some kind or anithir.