I married Isis on the fifth day of May

The cooler weather has made it harder to get out of bed in the morning. I could have slept past noon today, but I forced myself to get up and at 'em. So, here I sit, well before noon, sipping on some dark roast coffee, listening to Van Der Graaf Generator, and still sleepy enough that if I got back into bed, I would be there for a while.

Watched The Buddha yesterday. I had seen a bit of it when it aired on PBS. When I recently discovered it was streaming on Netflix, I was thrilled. It's one of the best documentaries I've ever seen. So well done. What I especially liked was the animated sequences. Gorgeous!

While making breakfast this morning, I thought about how often religious people forgo the message of their chosen religion in favor of the nonessential aspects of it. The Buddha's message was very simple: To end suffering, engage yourself and take joy in the moment because that is all there is and ever will be. And if I didn't nail it exactly, the point is still the same: He had a very simple message .

And so did Jesus. The Kingdom of Heaven is found within. You don't need to go to church. You have everything you need already. You don't have to go outside yourself. You don't have to erect statues, you don't have to go on pilgrimages, you don't have to engage in any rituals. But we like to make things difficult, don't we? Can't be that simple.

It's a very reptilian brain/ OCD type of thing people get into when they get bogged down in the ritualistic aspects of religion. Now, I understand the benefits of engaging in ritual; it can help still the mind and elevate us to a higher plane. But there's a point when it goes too far and the message gets convoluted beyond recognition.

Wouldn't it be weird if devotees of Carl Jung, instead of learning from his works, made yearly pilgrimages to his childhood home, the schools he attended, his office? Now, I'm not suggesting Jung is a religious icon like Jesus or Buddha, but I think you get the point.

The fact that Jesus and Buddha have religions formed around their teachings seems almost counter productive given the fact the each of them were saying "Hey, I'm just like you. You don't need to worship my ass, just apply my teachings to your own lives because WE ARE ALL THE FUCKING SAME. Really, stop being star-struck because that is the exact opposite of what you should be doing. " No gurus, folks. Start there and you're on your way to enlightenment.
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Trying to decide if I should practice yoga after I finish up here. Will my breakfast have digested enough by then? We'll see. I don't have much on the agenda today, so it's not like I won't have the time for a session.

Hung out with Spira and Pat the other night. Good times, but I think I may have inadvertently given Pat the idea that I was angry with him. I wasn't, but there was some miscommunication, to be sure. He was in a bit of a fragile state to begin with, which would have made it hard convincing him we were, as the kids like to say, all good.

That little blip aside, it was a good night. We ate pizza, played piano, hung out with Missy the dog, and talked about a bunch of stuff that you will never ever know about. How does that make you feel? Tell me later, I'm eager to finish up here.

I just ordered a copy of The Lost City of Z from Amazon. I can't wait to read it. I saw it at the book store yesterday, but held off spending the sixteen dollars because I knew I could buy it four times cheaper from Amazon. Will have to wait a few more days, but it'll be worth. Here's a summary of the book.

In 1925, renowned British explorer Col. Percy Harrison Fawcett embarked on a much publicized search to find the city of Z, site of an ancient Amazonian civilization that may or may not have existed. Fawcett, along with his grown son Jack, never returned, but that didn't stop countless others, including actors, college professors and well-funded explorers from venturing into the jungle to find Fawcett or the city. Among the wannabe explorers is Grann, a staff writer for the New Yorker, who has bad eyes and a worse sense of direction. He became interested in Fawcett while researching another story, eventually venturing into the Amazon to satisfy his all-consuming curiosity about the explorer and his fatal mission. Largely about Fawcett, the book examines the stranglehold of passion as Grann's vigorous research mirrors Fawcett's obsession with uncovering the mysteries of the jungle. By interweaving the great story of Fawcett with his own investigative escapades in South America and Britain, Grann provides an in-depth, captivating character study that has the relentless energy of a classic adventure tale.

Might watch some Breaking Bad on Netflix today. Been told again and again how great the show is, so when I saw it was streaming on Netflix, I said to myself, "Nice!". Okay, time for yoga, then maybe some recording.

One more thing. Yesterday, I saw a New Orleans style funeral march go by my house. The band was playing "In The Afterlife" and it was a sight to behold. Reason number 32 why I like living in the city.

Peace, you freaks of nature.