Quality of life

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Quality of life is defined by the World Health Organization as “an individual’s perception of their position in life in the context of the culture and value systems in which they live and in relation to their goals, expectations, standards and concerns”. Standard indicators of the quality of life include wealth, employment, the environment, physical and mental health, education, recreation and leisure time, social belonging, religious beliefs, safety, security and freedom.

Health related QOL (HRQOL) is an evaluation of QOL and its relationship with health.

In healthcare, quality of life is an assessment of how the individual’s well-being may be affected over time by a disease, disability or disorder.

Measurement

Early versions of healthcare-related quality of life measures referred to simple assessments of physical abilities by an external rater (for example, the patient is able to get up, eat and drink, and take care of personal hygiene without any help from others) or even to a single measurement (for example, the angle to which a limb could be flexed).

The current concept of health-related quality of life acknowledges that subjects put their actual situation in relation to their personal expectation. The latter can vary over time, and react to external influences such as length and severity of illness, family support, etc. As with any situation involving multiple perspectives, patients’ and physicians’ rating of the same objective situation have been found to differ significantly. Consequently, health-related quality of life is now usually assessed using patient questionnaires. These are often multidimensional and cover physical, social, emotional, cognitive, work- or role-related, and possibly spiritual aspects as well as a wide variety of disease related symptoms, therapy induced side effects, and even the financial impact of medical conditions. Although often used interchangeably with the measurement of health status, both health-related quality of life and health status measure different concepts.

Activities of Daily Living

Activities of Daily Living (ADLs) are activities that are oriented toward taking care of one’s own body and are completed daily. These include bathing/showering, toileting and toilet hygiene, dressing, eating, functional mobility, personal hygiene and grooming, and sexual activity. Many studies demonstrate the connection between ADLs and health-related quality of life (HRQOL). Mostly, findings show that difficulties in performing ADLs are directly or indirectly associated with decreased HRQOL. Furthermore, some studies found a graded relationship between ADL difficulties/disabilities and HRQOL- the less independent people are at ADLs- the lower their HRQOL is. While ADLs are an excellent tool to objectively measure quality of life, it is important to remember that Quality of life goes beyond these activities. For more information about the complex concept of quality of life, see information regarding the disability paradox.

In addition to ADLs, instrumental activities of daily living (IADLs) can be used as a relatively objective measure of health-related quality of life. IADLs, as defined by the American Occupational Therapy Association (AOTA), are “Activities to support daily life within the home and community that often require more complex interactions than those used in ADLs”. IADLs include tasks such as: care for others, communication management, community mobility, financial management, health management, and home management. Activities of IADLS includes: grocery shopping, preparing food, housekeeping, using the phone, laundry, managing transportation/finances. Research has found that an individual’s ability to engage in IADLs can directly impact their quality of life.

Importance

There is a growing field of research concerned with developing, evaluating, and applying quality of life measures within health related research (e.g. within randomized controlled studies), especially in relation to Health Services Research. Well-executed health-related quality of life research informs those tasked with health rationing or anyone involved in the decision-making process of agencies such as the Food and Drug Administration, European Medicines Agency or National Institute for Clinical Excellence. Additionally, health-related quality of life research may be used as the final step in clinical trials of experimental therapies.

The understanding of Quality of Life is recognized as an increasingly important healthcare topic because the relationship between cost and value raises complex problems, often with high emotional attachment because of the potential impact on human life. For instance, healthcare providers must refer to cost-benefit analysis to make economic decisions about access to expensive drugs that may prolong life by a short amount of time and/or provide a minimal increase to quality of life. Additionally, these treatment drugs must be weighed against the cost of alternative treatments or preventative medicine. In the case of chronic and/or terminal illness where no effective cure is available, an emphasis is placed on improving health-related quality of life through interventions such as symptom management, adaptive technology, and palliative care.

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Extracted from Wikipedia.

Last Few Years – End Game

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Since we have been in France several people have commented that I am still young. I have not and do not believe them. I do not see myself as young. I don’t feel that I have two decades left. I feel increasingly decrepit.

The average UK male life expectancy in the UK might be 84 but I have smoked a lot, drunk a lot and have early stage COPD. The government web site “thinks” on average that I will make the state pension age of age of 67. I am less sure. Various anti-tobacco web sites suggest that I have taken around ten years off my life expectancy. Someone like Boris Johnson is the same age as me. There is no way I could countenance his reported familial circumstance. I simply could not hack it. Some of my erstwhile peers are still having useful and successful careers. My overt socio-political career effectively stopped nearly two decades ago. I am done in that context.

The end-game trajectory looks pretty simple.

Many of the things which are advertised as activities for the aged are of no interest to me. The sanguine advertisers’ pictures of garden centre visits, SAGA river cruises, stairlifts, cremation plans and incontinence pants don’t really light my candle. Weirdly old farts like me are pictured using smart phones like a teenager! I will not be a grey-fox male model nor a complicit cripple smiling to camera and simpering in a wheel chair, thanking my lucky stars.

There is a disconnect in perception. People see sixty-year olds differently from how I experience it.

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There is nothing on my bucket list and no residual ambition. I am not keen on bingo nor lawn bowls. I do not want to play bridge nor socialise with my fellow gummy-bear toothless.

I don’t really have much of anything to offer which people might want and/or pay for. I know some things but the things I know are not that which people desire or want. These will go up the crematorium chimney with me.

I know that on the warrior’s path anything might and can happen. So, if something hugely life-changing happened I would not be overly surprised. It looks mightily unlikely now.

I could treat myself to a new camera and renew my photography. I am 90% sure that I could write a truly terrifying occult based psycho-terror novel. Exorcism might feature. Cancer epidemiology and life expectancy / month graphs could be included. I could add some chem-bio-gene terror to the plot, maybe throw in a few mutations.

It remains a hypothesis that other people have karma to work out in respect of me and that I can in no way facilitate this process. Either they will do it in time or I will pop my clogs first. I am powerless to help, incommunicado and our circles are unlikely to cross again this life.

If we down-size the garden a lot. I will need something to do.

I don’t really have a vision of where to from here…the current horizons however are not large…

Leaving the Palace and Miscellaneous

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Nirmāṇakāya (Chinese: 應身; pinyin: yīngshēn; Tibetan: སྤྲུལ་སྐུ་, tulku, Wylie: sprul sku) is the third aspect of the trikāya and the physical manifestation of a Buddha in time and space.

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Nearly ten years ago I tried to explain to the anaesthetist that because of the very large amount of meditation I had done there might be some anomalies in how I responded to medication – anaesthetic. They completely ignored me and did not take me in any way seriously. A few days subsequent to the operation I had strong recall of being above the operating table watching the “vultures” around my corpse operating. On going into theatre, I was chatting about the clean room conditions of the operating theatre. The same night after ~ six hours of surgery to remove a colon cancer, I stood on my own two feet. Which freaked out the nurse in recovery.

I am pretty sure that something weird transpired during the operation and that it was not spoken about.

There is no way that a modern medical professional would countenance the notion of a nirmāṇakāya or janmanirmāṇakāya; སྐྱེ་བ་སྤྲུལ་སྐུ, skye ba sprul sku. Nor that they might be biologically different to a regular human being.

If one takes the dreaming “evidence” in this blog, then there is a hint of non-standard reincarnations plural stemming back lifetimes. It could be a Soul reincarnating or it could simply be some kind of emanation. In the latter case the emanation body or nirmāṇakāya may not clothe itself in meat in a standard way. I have not read of any different approach to the medical treatment of Tibetan tulkus. But there is a vast amount of stuff which is kept away from prying eyes. My guess is that Tibetan Vajrayana etc. is like an iceberg, with only a tiny bit showing.

The body may be similar but the “mind” very different. Tulkus may be very different to normal people though looking the same. The manifestation, the emanation, need not be that of a full buddha.

On the horizon for me are up to three more major surgeries. In 2019 they put my titanium pin into the left femoral neck/head whist under the influence of a spinal injection and some other drugs. I can remember the bone shaking pneumatic drill. They would not let me watch even though I asked. It was enough to induce PTSD…I was conscious if drugged.

It can be said or observed that I left / renounced the Imperial palace, when I walked out of my job as a senior lecturer at Imperial College in London. I was a strict vegan for a long time, close to nine years. I walked out of a relationship with a wife, a home and a very young female child. I renounced my family later. I meditated extensively away from the madding crowd. I learned science sport and martial arts. There are some of the twelve acts attributed to Siddartha.

At a very long stretch one could say I share these, have them in common.

There is a part of me that wonders if the medical approach to me needs to take other factors into consideration. This adds a little reticence to the notion of drastic orthopaedic surgery. Somehow, I need to understand better…

Hmmn..

X-rays – Whales – Water – West Wales – Catherine – Lens – Gig – Tibet Dream 02-05-2025

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For the first time in over three months, I slept through to 4:30 AM. I was very surprised when I checked the clock on going to the bathroom. Here is a sequence of dreams / snippets.

The dream starts with me walking in multiple magnolia-coloured corridors carrying A4 x-ray images of my hips and knees. I am going back and forth and talking with various elements of the medical profession. There is something in these films which they have never seen before, implied something inside me, unique.

I am now in an ultra-modern house high on a hillside overlooking a sound, an inlet, from the coast. The feeling is of a damp pacific northwest America, as per the early Twilight films. There is forest and rain, Vancouver or Seattle. There is water in the air. There is a huge floor to ceiling glass window looking out to the sound below, there are droplets on the glass. I am close almost pressed to the window. It is my invalid home, for recovery.  Far below in the sound I can see whales swimming in a V formation. They are the same black and white non-orca whales from the dream before. My relationship is totemic. As they swim up the fjord inland there is one lead and two on each side of the V. I count thirteen whales in total. It is as if I am swimming behind the lead whale protected by the pod.

I am now at the waterside of the sound. Despite the northerly latitude I enter the water to swim. I can see my dive partner from Sharm El-Sheikh. She is young and attractive as she was then. She is dressed in a green bikini and somehow mostly above water. I swim towards her fully immersed in the cold water completely at home.

The scene changes and I am with my wife and Ashley. We are sitting on the front seat of a right-hand drive minibus. It is one of those continuous bench seats. It is getting towards night and dusky. Ashley is driving, she is in the middle, and I am on the left. In front of the steering wheel behind the dashboard there is a huge mess in front of Ashley, which contrasts to the space in front of us. Now dark we drive down a lane. It is deep in rural West Wales, not too far from the sea. The roads are windy. Ashley pulls up in front of a property and asks, “is this it?”

“Yes”.

He gets out and goes to open the door with a key. It unlocks but the door does not open. I get out and look at the very sophisticated modern locking mechanism. He does not know what is the other side of the door in this rather nondescript building, I do. I pull a key out of my right trousers pocket. It is at the end of a chain attached to one of the belt hooks. The key is golden and slightly shimmering.  I go to the door and with ease undo the mortice. The door starts to open, and a radiant light spills out of the doorway, through the small gap between door and lintel. In contrast to Ashley neither the wife nor I are surprised.

The next part of the dream starts with a strong visual image of Catherine Middleton. She is a bit thin and wearing only a long T-shirt. She wants me to look at her body which I do. I can see her small breasts and the scar from her operation on her abdomen. She feels frail yet determined. In the dream she wants me to have sex with her, which I know is not sex but cooperation. She wants to talk with me about George in particular. Something is bothering her, and she can’t let it go. She needs an explanation different from those she has already had. I comment that I would be happy to try to help.

The setting now changes to the English West Country, Devon, Somerset or Cornwall. Inland, I am due to run a large course at a conference facility. It is due to start in the afternoon, and the preparations are ok. There are people handling the arrivals. I have a team assembled.

Driving the minibus from before I pull up in a layby by a series of beachy coves. I get out and put my belongings in a black plastic workman’s bucket with a handle and head down to the beach with the bucket. I put the bucket on the beach. I enter the water and swim like I used to be able. I swim along shore and in and out of the little coves. I note that there is a strong current running along the shore in the direction of where I started. I decide to part body-surf the current back. Others are doing this too. When I get back to the beach my bucket is gone. It has my ‘phone and documents in. Sat on the decking of a beachfront bar at an outside table is a couple of American men. They are being loud. I can see the bucket with them. I go up to them and say that I need the contents of the bucket. They joke a little, but I insist it is very important because I have a gig to do soon. I look in the bucket and find what I am looking for. It is a small ~1cm diameter bi-convex lens in what looks like a slightly leaden glass. I hold it up to my eye between my left index finger and thumb. “This I what I was looking for!” They look non-plussed. I need to hurry back for the course I am due to give.

 I move on and am back in the van. I am calling to check something for the course. The call goes through to a public pay phone, US style attached to a telegraph pole outside of the modern pacific house from earlier. I can see the ‘phone ringing from where I am sat. The pay phone is quite fancy. Nobody answers. I try again and somebody answers the phone, but it is now not the pacific phone.

I am saying hello etc. There is no response. The phone start to crackle and a female voice asks me if I am who I am using my name and the prefix dr. I say yes. She says that she is Mrs. Andersen and is due on my course. She apologizes that she will not be able to make it. I ask why. She says that she is in the middle of Tibet. She is making a journey from East to West and that it is taking longer than expected. I say to her that it is fine and a very good explanation as to why she will not be attending. We both laugh a little. Life is strange.

The dream ends.

Being Cunning Is Not Wise

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Many people like the idea of “getting one over” on someone else, of shortcuts and quick fixes. People like to win, prove themselves better and score points. The notion of a cunning plan can be found widely in media and to outsmart someone is to be aspired to. Some would get a boner or go all damp about being cunning. It has a certain air salacious to it.

Being cunning may be clever but it is not wise.

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If you think about it a little cunning has a short time scale, it is a thing of immediacy and rarely are long term wider implications taken into consideration. Cunning is about now, the current situation / problem, and little else. It has an urge for some kind of victory whether petty or otherwise.

Wisdom has longevity, duration and wider application.

Many have found that being cunning launches the karmic boomerang and can come back to bite very sharply on the arse. In the heat of the moment those enamoured with being clever and cunning never see wider implications, cunning is almost always self-centred. It can have a theme of avoidance, passing the buck and cunning rarely if ever genuinely accepts responsibility. Cunning likes to “get away with it” in a socio-political sense and does not countenance notions of karma or for that matter sin. Cunning likes to pull a fast one.

Cunning is dark and not light.

I’ll speculate that it is impossible to outsmart the universe. Those who like to be clever and enact cunning might see such a statement as naïve. They would perhaps like to outsmart me and take advantage of me, in the short term. “He is so gullible!”

Cunning seeks something for nothing, the mythological free lunch. But there is always some kind of price even it is as little as compromise or erosion of one’s moral compass, a lowering of standards.

Cunning is the thin end of a wedge.

People who like to be clever and cunning fail to see or appreciate this. One act of cunning often requires another, just as one lie is nearly always propped up by more. One can look in the ACME grimoire to learn new tricks.

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Do you think being cunning is clever?

Is cunning a notion which appeals to you?

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Life and Dreams Diverge…

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Over the last few days or so I have been getting some vivid dreams. They refer to things not at all concerned with or relating to, our current life, our physical plane reality. There is not a lot I can do with these dreams.

On the horizon at some stage as yet unspecified is a bi-lateral hip replacement operation. This may / may not offer something of a new lease of life in terms of mobility and relative absence of pain. The diffuse idiopathic skeletal hyperostosis suggests that osteophytes will grow subsequent to surgery reducing the useful life of implants. My thoracic spine will get ever more fused and perhaps extend cervical. I will become a proper stiff.

It is increasingly obvious that due to handicap and low physical capability the garden here is too big. Short of winning the lottery we need to move. The current idea is to move house before any operation because I will still be able to lift heavy stuff for the move. As things stand, and unless I get ill, I do not need to see the GP doctor until September for asthma medication which means that the French side of the orthopaedic line of inquiry is on-hold. I have a follow up for colorectal cancer next week which may require industrial grade laxative and a colonoscopy. Yippee, what fun! My ten year anniversary present.

There is no reliable physical plane evidence to deter from the disabled-enabled nanna-flat trajectory. There is nothing on this plane to suggest any use for me. There is nothing holding us here. We could legally move to UK or Ireland. We have become accustomed to Breton rain so Ireland is less of a push than it once was.

It is pretty clear to me that my lack of social viability means we need to find somewhere out of the hurly burly to some extent. Every time I interact something seems to go wrong. Something grates, people get edgy and uncomfortable.

At the moment I am getting a bit bored with the matinal pain.

The decision funnel towards proper down-sizing and retirement pinches, gets tighter. No other options are available / making an appearance. The blog and patent renewal choices must be made soon. And we have had an income tax form, strangely the tax people in France are hyper organized and mega efficient…

With the price of propane increasing and my lumberjack skills failing, the cost of running the house gets ever more prohibitive.

The end-game looks quiet. The idea of a supported retirement flat is more attractive.

I am due an appointment with a UK consultant rheumatologist soon and a short visit to Jersey will help us understand if we can hack being surrounded by anglophones and just how important Waitrose, Café Nero and Pizza Express are. I will have a better idea if there is any immuno-rheumatic cause at play in my bone–skeletal problems.

The dreams are currently significantly diverging from real physical plane life. I know on one hand that I have an unusual and eclectic set of knowledge given my orthodox science background in my earlier London incarnation. It remains an anomaly and not much more than that.

We probably need to stick the house on the market soon…

I will have to explain to the estate agents that I don’t think like other people and that I have zero desire to discuss prices until hell freezes over. I will not negotiate nor make any counter-offer, sorry. I am not sure that I will be able to get that across.

I see a glitch coming. People just don’t / won’t get it.

Anyway, it is sunny outside. The stray cats Felix and Gandalf have been fed. Felix is not looking well and we are not sure how long he will be with us. This once totally stray cat lets me pick him up on my foot! He lets me handle him and I can feel his ribs.

Madame Canard was on the pond this morning with half a dozen ducklings. Each year she raises two broods over the fence in the “swamp”. Monsieur Canard has been pacing up and down smoking, metaphorically.

The trajectory looks pretty set…life and dreams diverge.

Dream of the Four Pronged nagal – 30-04-2025

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Here is this morning’s dream.

I am with Charlie whom I know to be an extrovert highly talkative nagal’s courier. We are in a courtyard with white stone walls some draped in rude pink bougainvillea. We are sat at a two seater small white bistro style table in the sun. He is talking animatedly and says that there are some people he would like me to meet. We are in a leafy rich suburb of Pretoria South Africa. He says again that are some people he would like me to meet, now.

The first is just around the corner. He leads me off to a small shopping / administrative area. There is a 1960s style polygon shaped building with a large, covered porch and outdoor seating. It is a community library and an outreach of the university. We enter and there are all sorts of posters in the vestibule advertising events. Behind the librarian’s desk is a medium height medium build white woman. She has an immaculate grey straight haired bob and is dressed in a well pressed blouse and trousers. There are small black butterflies as a motif on her white blouse. Around her neck on a lanyard are spectacles. Charlie introduces me and she speaks in a Germanic Dutch English accent. It is different from Afrikaans and highly educated. She says that she likes the East. I already know this, she is an Easterly Stalker who works at the university library most of the time. In her spare time, she is highly athletic and a free climber. She is lithe.

Charlie then leads me off South into a township near Cape Town. We go to a government run drop in centre / nursery. It is next to a pop-up health centre for adults with HIV. We go into the centre and I can immediately hear the booming tones of a large woman, who is telling someone off in a well humoured manner. She is laughing. As we approach, I can see a large buxom and overweight black woman with corn-row dreadlocks. She has a gold ring piercing in her left nostril and left ear. She is about six feet tall and, in all respects, larger than life. Around her are numerous toddlers and small children. It is chaotic yet somehow together. She hugs Charlie fiercely and squashes him to her bosom. When she sees me, she suddenly becomes coy and suspicious. She inspects me and breaks into a radiant ear to ear grin. There is no need for a hug because we can feel each other’s hearts. She is a Southerly Stalker.

Charlie then takes me to Western Cape to an isolated penitentiary inland from the coast. It is surrounded by razor wire and heavily guarded. We pull up to the guard house in our car. He stays in the car as only I am allowed in. The guards have been expecting me. They open the gate and let me in. I walk in unaccompanied. There are no more guards. I open the first gate and then a door. Inside in a dark room of considerable size there is an electric fence surrounding an enclosure. On it are danger high-voltage signs. I can see a man inside the enclosure. He is wearing a wide brimmed hat and a long dark brown bushwhacker’s coat. I can pass through the electric fence without any problems, with ease. I know that it does not constrain him either. We are at home in the darkness of the room. We stand brooding together in the darkness. He is a Man Behind the Scenes and I know him to be seventh ray. I can see his eyes but not his face in the darkness. We know each other very well, across lifetimes.

The dream ends.

Above My Pay Grade

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In quite a few, often intelligence / spying films, out of the USA people use the admonition “it is above your pay grade” to silence junior colleagues and prohibit their access to information. Others say “it is above my pay grade” to plead ignorance. Those on high salaries and with positional power have access to more information and things best kept away from lowly plebs which would not, could not possibly, understand. There are secrets only for the worthy, the elite etc.

I think I have inadvertently upset the applecart here, by examining the CT and MRI images, even having the temerity of printing captured images out. With one exception, our female GP, there has been a weird knee-jerk reaction to being presented with these images. Clearly it is a job demarcation problem for a non qualified pleb to impinge on the wisdom and expertise of a specialist radiographer. Oops, my bad. It is above my pay grade to download image viewing software and examine in detail images.

In France medicine is conducted in silos. A doctor asks a specific question of the radiologist in their silo. He/she replies in short coded statements to the adjacent silo. There is no need for the non specialist to examine images. It is efficient if not comprehensive.

I have had X-rays of my knees and feet done today. They look to me, at first pass OK, so we wait for the written write up which I will get before any GP appointment.

This morning, I have been looking at this Nature Comms Article

Genetics implicates overactive osteogenesis in the development of diffuse idiopathic skeletal hyperostosis

Anurag Sethi, J. Graham Ruby, Matthew A. Veras, Natalie Telis & Eugene Melamud

Nature Communications volume 14, Article number: 2644 (2023)

There are some nice graphics.

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Since I have been looking into diffuse idiopathic skeletal hyperostosis (DISH) I keep reading that the causes are not well understood. Given that it is widespread I ask the question, “why has there not been vast research in the area? It would be of enormous benefit to find a cure / assistance.”

It is a disease of old gits and nowhere near as sexy as cancer or brain surgery. There must be petabytes of images by now.

Clearly it is above my pay grade to ask such a presumptuous question of deity.

According to Nature Comms. I clearly have enhanced overactive rates of osteogenesis.

Does that mean that I get more boners than average? No.

Curiously osteoarthritis seems genetically counter-correlated with DISH. Technically I have a fair fit with the left column above.

Because I have no pay grade any more, no positional power, and no power by association it is probably best that I keep my gob shut and my nose out of the affairs of people way more important than I. I am a relatively poor, increasingly disabled socially non viable being. No way am I a big cheese in the grande fromagerie of life.

Obvs it is for the high and mighty to discuss things amongst themselves. The lofty air up there is way above my pay grade.

It does beg the question, “If you were to come visit me after your death, what would you say, what might you ask?”

“What might you expect me to say or do?”

In my opinion if I were writing a grant proposal, I might start….

DISH detrimentally impacts on the quality of life of more than 15% of the adult population therefore it is both timely and cost effective to understand better the aetiology of the disease so that early stage prophylactic interventions can be developed. Thereby enhancing both recurrent healthcare cost reduction and quality of life outcomes.

But that is above my pay grade.

The Power of a Buddha or Evolved Bodhisattva

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The image of Buddha is very widespread and one can get a statue down the garden centre or a poster to put up on the walls of your home. The vibe associated is often calm tranquillity. Never is it in battle with Mara, Māra. In the west Buddha is often seen as wholly benign and passive. Those fond of smoking joints may have a Buddha statuette or have paraphernalia which is Buddha themed. One can get a vegetarian meal called a Buddha Bowl. Back when I was a vegan and visiting Japan I used to eat “Monk’s Meals” there.

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Most of the statues have a Buddha who is not emaciated and with Thai style hair, a bit fat. Rarely is he seen as skinny. He is often depicted with a halo as might be perceived by a quasi-clairvoyant. 

It is not as weird as the blonde, blue eyed Aryan representations of Jesus who was probably semitic, Jewish, in appearance. But Buddha is often not quite as brown as he might have been in real life. He lived alfresco and would have tanned up well.

In the West people do not imagine the power, sometimes magical of a Buddha or evolved Bodhisattva. The imaginations do not extend beyond some dude sitting on a mat cross legged meditating.

“Hey man, that is Zen…”

Tibetan Buddhism is perhaps unique in representing wrathful forms of various Bodhisattvas. They do battle with evil. In Vajrayana there is black and white magic. Force sometimes needs met. There is significant power in a Buddha or evolved Bodhisattva. Power beyond normal ken.

The various canons have a list of special powers attained as a Bodhisattva proceeds along their journey to enlightenment. These supra-mundane powers are not to be found in garden centres. Scientists may quibble as to whether they are real manifestations or not.

As a teenager I was fascinated by the TV series Monkey.

“Monkey eats many of the peaches, which have taken millennia to ripen, becomes immortal and runs amok. Having earned the ire of Heaven and being beaten in a challenge by an omniscient, mighty, but benevolent, cloud-dwelling Buddha (釈迦如来, Shakanyorai), Monkey is imprisoned for 500 years under a mountain in order to learn patience.

Eventually, Monkey is released by the monk Tripitaka (三蔵法師, Sanzōhōshi), who has been tasked by the Boddhisatva Guanyin (観世音菩薩, Kanzeon Bosatsu) to undertake a pilgrimage from China to India to fetch holy scriptures (implied to be the region of Gandhāra in the song over the closing credits).”

Which is about the spread of the threefold Tripitaka to China and hence Japan. Evil tries to stop the dharma from being propagated and many adventures ensue. Here Buddhism is proactive and not passive. There is struggle.

The Buddhist canons have many stories of remarkable miracles carried out both by Siddartha and other Bodhisattvas. Padmasambhava considered a Nirmāṇakāya of Shakyamuni Buddha is attributed with magical powers and miracles. Those steeped in the tradition are less likely to scoff than your common or garden Western scientist. Vajrayana differs from East Enders or Coronation Street and markedly so. Exposure and immersion in its depths is likely to blow the minds of anyone lacking openness and fluidity.

Without direct personal experience there is no way to assess what the power of a Buddha or evolved Bodhisattva might be. Common sense suggests caution and not arrogance.

 A Buddha is not just a garden ornament, statuette or poster…