The Monster in Me

I began working on my mind at an early age. When I was about 11 i had a realisation i was human again. It felt like, “Ah fuck, i didn’t make it, just human again”.

I had no idea what that meant at that age. Now i know it was a past life flashback, emotional flashback, mental, spiritual flashback.

I began remembering my past lives, just talking about them like everyone remembers. I then began to notice other’s reactions to what id do and say about ghosts. They were blood drained out your face TERRIFIED of ghosts.

Man, if you think spiders are more scared of you, then demons are terrified, ghosts are petrified, etc. I feel proper, dead sorry for them.

Then along came Buddhism and I’m like, “Hey, this kinda explains all those weird feelings ive been having. Phew.

Guess what? Yep. Still weirdo. Even in the crowd that explains me. Guess who accepts me? The first bunch.

I’m a very normal person with an extraordinary mind. I think it’s a nice mind, others may think it’s small and insignificant, but i see my own mind.

I have dreams, dreams where i can go places, see things. I can go into others and they mine. This is common in lucid dreaming circles, etc.

I am sometimes very, very upset. Thats just normal as a mother. Promise.

Normal. I’m being normal.

Magic Mike

I need to tell you about this gift Geshe-la gave me. Just about strapped me to him with a firm, “Stay!” command (Geshe-la knows I’m his bottom bitch).

I had already left my ordination and had been gloriously dumped for my birthday by a friend of 16 years for being me. Good call. I was writing poems and noticed this writer was posting furiously. At the time I saw another me, although my mind was in no space to read or pay attention. I was in freefall myself, but had recognised another me out there. I heard my Guru. He told me to go and help.

It turned out he was embroiled in an ongoing contact (not even custody) battle to just SPEAK to his kid, he was living like a hobo in a house overrun with unpaying house guests and he’d just been violently raped. None of which was something I felt was unhandleable. I have large suitcases filled with baggage. I’m a baggage handling motherfuckong PRO. But this guy. This guy held ME while he went, and goes through, all of it

Oh, let me sing of his virtues! Get a bucket. When I told him I wanted to go and do a retreat, he was more than happy to give up his spare room. He was my retreat assistant and it was all so very normal. Not ordinary, but, it never seems to be with me, or him, more importantly.

I still eat bogies. They taste better with renunciation. They are bliss, with the right mind 😉

I was going to say.. I drew some conclusions, but I picked my nose, wiped it on the screen and then ate it. I’m a fucking monster (moon star). Anywho, life’s a joke. It doesn’t exist. It’s a play. I am only watching this through a lense, and it’s upside down and inside out. The sense of reality we all have is an illusion. But.

It’s a useful illusion. Like a story is a useful metaphor. Practicing the yoga of incontheevability, I “went higher” than “all beings” and “saw” the interconnectedness of all things, so much so I lost all sense of self. I was lost. Lost and manipulated. Or…

Carried. Carried by all. Joined to all. Produced by all. Held. Supported. Which reminds me of an insight. The supporting mandala, from my own perspective, is more important to cherish. I have no need to worry about ANYTHING if I take care of my network. My heroes. Heroines. Dakas and Dakinis.

I’m an asshole. AND I do stupid, bad shit. But, he just doesn’t give up me me. I’m a wanker. He doesn’t give up. I’m a suicidal maniac/psychopath, he doesn’t give up. So. In conclusion:

My Guru and I are both as stubborn as each other and love each other, all the way through death and out again. And he manifests in many forms. Each one more beautiful than the last.

What a weird and incredibly confusing journey this is?!😂❣️🤔🤓🥰

I fHell

You know what kind of person I am? The kind who does a 41 day water only fast. Why? Because if The J Naz did 40 days in the desert, then I’m gonna do 41, cause, fuck Jesus! I have second sister syndrome. Everything I do is met by a deafening, “Meh”. I feel so ordinary at times, I forget. I forget how fucking magical all this crazy bullshit is!

I was really fucking struggling back there. It felt like I was drowning but I couldn’t die. A bit like masturbating and not being able to cum. I went insane. Not metaphorically. I lost my fucking marbles. It’s ok, I gathered most of them back up and put them in my gob. Didn’t. I now lie. See! I got BAD!

Almost everyone in my life did something that shocked me. My life seemed to be falling apart. I mustn’t have been relying correctly, or praying the right way, or I had a misconception of emptiness, or blah, blah fucking blah.

I got to a point where the whole world had gone mad. I was alone in both my biological and spiritual family. My teachers had all spectacularly fucked off and my life was in ruin. Then my landlord evicted me. Then my best friend did something I couldn’t resolve, then my sister and my husband, then my son, and then the Rona came, I somehow lost my boy, but gained something I had NO FUCKONG idea I would.

I was at a point I was running through a street trying to get away from all this madness and realised, there’s nowhere to go. There never has been. I’ve tried for 20 years to get closer to my Spiritual Guide through classes and festivals, ordination and utter rejection and abandonment by every single one of them. No one has actually checked up on me. They all rely on gossip and hearsay. I’m still bitter, it seems, but I’m improving generally.

I have to be fucking honest. It’s my schtick. I need to just speak the truth (not Truth) and be corrected if need be. But this needs saying, if Dorje Shugdan blesses me to.

I got so fucking alone I was convinced I was inside a box for eternity. That’s when I realised. My Guru had answered one of my sincerest prayers. I’ve had a picture of some sort of mahamudra retreat for YEARS, but, being unwelcome at most centres, or certainly being made to feel I was, I could never do it at a centre. The conditions just didn’t seem to come about. I’ll start a new paragraph now so it looks better.

There we go. So, I had one of Sparkie’s* mahamudra cards on my shrine for years and I’d got to Tantric Grounds and Paths on TTP, but after attending a meeting at Düldzin, I was told, “Sorry Love, no. Again.”

Ah, fuck this bollocks, I thought. And did what I always do and did one at home. Not my home. I haven’t had a MY home for over a year now, in a spare room of a haunted house. Which is also fucking spot on awesome. Guess who Dorje Shugdan is the boss of? 🤭 So, I have those guys to thank too. It was difficult wrangling them, some fierce, violent rape had happened to my partner here, the man then killed himself. Luckily, it all came together in perfect timing with other incredible and fucking MAGICAL things. I hated it, all the way. It was torment. Except for a few weeks in the middle when I had a “nice time”, it was fucking Hell.

I can almost feel Sparkie* and Khenrab smile. I bitched about it every step of the fucking way (as Pende-la would attest) and quit so many times, and came back. I lost my fucking mind. And came back. I died on my own Yggdrasil, and he still fucking held me. I mentally destroyed everything my Guru have me, and still he waited patiently for me.

I might write more about it over time. Details of it, my six week and 4 silent day retreat on Mahamudra, I’m free to speak about my experiences as I choose. My Guru have me a precious gift. Free will. During my time in Hell with Him, he guided me to the absolute neverworld of my mind.

Does that mean Buddha harms? No. That means Buddha fulfilled my request. I asked him. I practiced taking and whenever suffering came he held me through it. At one point, I lay naked in bed, wrapped in my robes, completely disconnected from any sense of reality. I could not mentally handle it at times, and he slowed things down, but once I’d rested, I’d ask for more. And he gave me more. I needed to know suffering. I needed to take it away, and a good friend taught my not to look away like those dead people do.

After a massive battering, I can safely safe I’m very happy with how it all worked out. Incredible, difficult, wonderful, terrible and so much more. A very small step towards Great Enlightenment, but, for me, Giant’s have kept and held my in the palm of their hand as they did so.

More soon x

The Perfection of Giving

He, who sees things – wisdom saw,
How living beings remain so poor,
Holding onto grains of sand,
No bird in bush, no bird in hand.

Saving for that rainy day,
The miser never gives away,
And in the clutching never has,
In giving’s cause; the act whereas.

To go against our fear of loss,
The sharing of the coins we toss.
And letting go is coming back,
Relinquishing will never lack.

The secret to our wealth is give,
To go beyond the life we live.
We cannot take it when we die,
This karmic gift in truth provides.

Reliance Upon a Spiritual Guide

Prostrate in supplication
Eyes like waterfalls
My mind, my mind is breaking!
Help me, whoever you are.

Tiny, little man
Dressed in saffron
Eyes like jewels
With just a hint of

I had crossed over
To the realm of demons
Haunted and broken
Alone and lost
I called to him

A moment
Just a moment
And he took me
And led me to safety
Under the shelter of

He opened the book
and began to read
and filled my mind
with wisdom’s seed
Gave me his breath
so I could breathe

And then,
Healed and restored,
He said, “Now, breathe into them”.

This body of mine and your body, O Father,
This speech of mine and your speech, O Father,
This mind of mine and your mind, O Father,
Through your blessings may they become
Inseparably one.

Superior Seeing

Into the world screaming, the baby cries, feeling fear, pain, myriad sensations and a solid sense of I.

Child of seven, rides, carefree, wind blowing in her hair, still she feels the same sense of self, even though not one thought, not one feeling, not one molecule of the baby she was is any more.

Teenager now, flirting with the boys, dancing into her bloom, flushed and thrilled with life, she still feels her I, as solid as the day she was born.

Young woman, pensive and searching, questioning the thread of life, remembering back to her youth when that feeling of “Oh, no, I’m back on the wheel” came to her. I, still there, that continuous self superimposed upon the ever-changing, impermanence of body and mind.

In the balance of midlife, she comes to view the I through wisdom’s scope. Through anger, in fear, when making love, in sorrow, it’s there, always there, the thread of “me”.

The cause and basis of experiential existence: A mother leaves, the pain of I. A man invades, the shame of I. A father’s madness, the fear of I. The changing of one mother to another, and another, the I’s uncertainty. The birthing of a child, the pride of I. The marrying of a man, the epochs of I. The finding of religions and paths, the searchings of I. The breakdown, the madness of I. The finding of him, the saving of I. The finding of wisdoms, the finding of I. The I looking at I, the I looking at I.

Training in Meditation

Choose an object to focus on,
Let virtue be its purposed nub.
Gathering thoughts to sit upon,
Singular in central-aimed hub.

Lose your grip, so tighten your hold,
The wand’ring mind like thunder clouds.
A gentle entreat to unfold,
The softness of point, yet unbowed.

Persistence is key to conquer,
Bringing it back, and back again.
Aiming to wait in it longer,
Seeking, finding, holding – then stay.

Mind becomes strong with this training,
Like eagles in flight, a gliding.
Delicate pause in remaining,
A perfect tranquil abiding.


Another tree, this one bears eternal fruit,

If I give to one I receive the effects of giving to one,

If I give to countless, the effects are immeasurable.

Giving, as with all other perfections, is a mental intention, not always an outward action.

This is the tree I plant for harvest in future lives,

The fruit I will enjoy with all other living beings.

The inner light of wisdom, ignited by the Able Ones inside me, for the illumination of all.

A lamp for the path.

Water in a drought.

Food in the famine.

Medicine in sickness (physical and spiritual).

Whatever is needed. I will serve.

To drink tea, a teacup is needed. Living beings’ eternal joy is the tea – enlightenment is the cup.

Since there is no separation of self and other, I will strive for the names:

Awakened One
Able One
Dakini (Skydancer)




Basis for mounting compassion.

Becoming Clear and bright;

Inhale black smoke,
Destroy all suffering.
Exhale pure light,
Giving four gifts:

Material needs,

Exhale love…
Inhale compassion…
Exhale love…
Inhale compassion…

Cooling hot hells,
Thawing cold realms,
Feeding hungry ghosts,
Protecting animals,
Guiding humans,
Pacifying demi gods,
Immortalising gods of,
Desire realm, form and formlessness.

Clear the ground,
Fill the sky,
Radiate love,
Throughout the ten directions,
And three times.

Like the dawning sun,
Fill existence with love –
and light


hallowed breath.

Wishing Love

There’s a restlessness in this fickle place,
A need for constant circumstantial change,
“Variety is, still, the spice of life”,
A longing for perpetual exchange.

There’s no happiness here in this quagmire,
No lasting contentment is to be found.
As soon as we taste it, the moment fleets,
Our feet never fall onto solid ground.

We’re chasing reflections cast by our mind,
Thirsting for water in the desert sand.
Fooled by the temporal shift of our lot,
Hoodwinked by the magician’s sleight of hand.

My heart yearns for a permanent answer,
For all my Dearest Ones to find their peace.
To abide in unending contentment,
And from dissatisfaction, sweet release.