SPIRITUAL HYGIENE
Sometimes I still forget to meditate
— well, more
of a neglecting than forgetting, to
be honest
with you, even though I tell myself I’ll meditate
at noon, and I intend to. My authentic self
knows better and it sends a message
to my
mind to that effect. My mind,
however, blows it
off or stuffs it in the pocket set
aside for an
assortment of
(a)
brain lint
(b)
minor obligations (if that’s not an
oxymoron) I’ve forgotten or put off
oxymoron) I’ve forgotten or put off
(c)
untidy thoughts
(d)
that vague uneasiness about who-knows-
what-all, and
what-all, and
(e)
one peppermint that melted in its twist of
cellophane and then collected grit and the
ubiquitous odd penny now and
permanently welded to it.
cellophane and then collected grit and the
ubiquitous odd penny now and
permanently welded to it.
I call it “the detritus pocket.” Meditation
tidies it.
You've only got a pocket reserved for that kind of stuff?? I carry around an entire backpack full of it and I think it's time I trade up for one of those wheeled suitcases. That should help to ease some of the discomfort in my shoulders and lower back....
ReplyDeleteWell, Unknown, see, the thing is, is, you got your sticky peppermint/penny combo, which is an excellent conductor of electricity; friction from all that debris bumping around in there heats up even a couple grams of vague uneasiness; brain-lint buildup is highly volatile... ergo, you even walk past a window with the sun coming in at a certain angle, that backpack's gonna blow and take you with it. They'll find body parts in three, four counties. You don't want a suitcase, you want an explosion-containing tank you gotta haul around... for, let's face it, garbage. Wanna know what I think? Set your cell-phone alarm clock for, like, 1 p.m. every day. When it dings, just slip into the Facilities (because, really, nobody wants to watch), stand next to the wastebasket, turn your pocket inside-out. No back discomfort, no smithereens. Think about it. The universe needs you.
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