Happy, happy

mig — Wed, 05 Feb 2020 13:29:19 +0000

The engine warning light is on, I say to the mechanic. Can you plug it in and see what’s wrong? Also the windshield is cracked and the back seat windows roll themselves down.
You’ll have to leave it here, he says. We’ll call you later than you expect and say something cryptic only car guys understand. Or better yet, we’ll wait so long to call you that you call us first.
Sounds good, I say. Can you have your cleaning lady drive me to the station?
Will do, he says.
I am happy because I catch the same train as always (the one I take on the days I use that station because I drop Gamma there, and not the usual station nearer our house).
Then I am happy because the bus doesn’t drive away without me.
Then I am happy because I figure out relatively quickly that the connecting bus isn’t operating because school vacations.
Then I am happy because I can just cross the street and take a subway to a different bus.
Then I am happy because, when I trip and fall on my face entering the station, I don’t break anything. Fuck you too, ground.
Then, because so many nice people stop and ask me if I’m okay, including a man in a black fedora and an attractive young woman.
Then, because, when I tell them I think I’m fine, they all look at me and ask, Are you sure? Which suggests it was really spectacular.
Then, because, thinking about it, I had managed to avoid falling on the guy in front of me, which would have caused a domino-like catastrophic group fall in the subway station.
Then because the next bus isn’t very full because school vacation.
Then because two crows greet me at the office, demanding dog food.
Then because I am sitting down at my desk before I realize I am dizzy.
Then because youtube suggests a bunch of dark ambient music.
Then because the crows are all, like, waddup? And I’m like, waddup? And they’re like, this is so fucked. And I’m like, what. And they’re like, whaddya mean what? Everything dude. And I’m like, now would be a good time for like aliens or god or someone to intervene. And they’re like, what are you talking about, you’re the god of the office. And I’m like, oh yeah I forgot.
But that’s a non-interventive position.
Unfortunately.

Guided meditation

mig — Tue, 03 Apr 2018 13:12:31 +0000

Is everybody comfortable?
Tea okay? If anyone needs a blanket, just tell me. Or they’re over there by the window.
Is everyone comfortable?
Okay.
Namaste etc etc.
Relax. Concentrate on your breathing for a few breaths.
In through the nose, out through the mouth.
In through the nose, follow your breath on its journey through your body.
Trading those little oxygen molecules for those little carbon molecules or whatever.
Here is the scene.
You are a rugby player.
Or an American football player.
Big game.
Someone hands you the ball. You cradle it in your arm. Leap, fly over opposing players, crash into the end zone, ball cradled safely in your arm.
Score!!
However many points that is! Enough to win the big game, anyway!
Okay, except one thing: you’re not a ball player, you’re an old guy.
And it’s not a ball you’ve got cradled in your arm, it’s a tortoise.
Okay, and a few other things: it’s not opposing players you fly over, it’s a low fence you put up around the flower bed to keep the tortoise from running away. And you don’t crash into any end zone, you hit the slate tiles by the driveway like a ton of bricks.
Safely cradled, though: you bet. Tortoise looking at you like, my dude, wtf?
But he’s okay.
That’s important, because you had the old red cat put to sleep the day before and you don’t want to hurt any more animals for a while.
Okay, we’re not naive, Easter ham, someone gave their life for that, but you know what I mean.
Double check everything. Tortoise, fine, runs laps in the house. You: was I this sore before? Is the headache new? Did anybody see? Am I dizzy or just tired?
Breathe.
Or is it all the sugar?
Breathe in through the nose, out through the mouth.
Let your mind wander.
Have some tea.

Metamorphosism » concussion

Happy, happy

Guided meditation