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Tuesday, August 5, 2008

Plush, My Darling!

Plush, my darling! Plush! Faint are the patterings of hearts as kings and queens recline upon Ottomans. Rapid the pulse of peasants upon concrete. The point being that in order to enjoy comfort one needs a fully cushioned couch, a soft pillow, or a plush seat. This, I submit, would have made Buddhas out of barbarians; or at least paved the way for pleasant reveries. All too often the seat one chooses for reclining during meditation can cause the mind to wander. Comfort is my motto. All those monks in squatting postures, with legs folded: I cannot imagine how they ever entered into the kingdom of samadhi.

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