Stillness
Stillness was an energy that I always had trouble with. Unless I was sleeping, of course. There's something about quiet that I have a need to fill. It takes all of two minutes of quiet to make me rush for the phone in search of someone to talk to. Or to the computer, to talk in that way that can only be described as talking "at" people, since "
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It's not that I am bored--but I know all about retreating away from the Big Bad Ugly (i.e. "She Who Shall Not be Named"). It is then that I march to my bridge and do my damndest to "be happy in work" (no matter how much piss is coming down my back, I still can't call it rain).
Let's get metaphysical (do you hear the Olivia Newton-John tune in your head now? Good!). Can a person, even the most dogged of dogma followers, ever be still?
Well, sit down and close your eyes...open them...(because I realize you can't read with your eyes closed...yet). But try to "meditate" and be still.
Are you still breathing? Is that wonderful heart of yours still churning the glorious ruby red through your veins? Are you breathing? Are you cells ceasing their replication? Is your skin no longer shedding away scale upon scale of dead remnants?
If you answer "no" to any or all of these you're dead (or dying). And if this is the case, you don't have to worry, because stillness will be finding you shortly.
Maybe what the problem is is not lack of stillness, but lack of slowing down?
Think back to our conversation before the play regarding speech patterns (and your reply about Long Island Ice Teas influencing them).
Face it hon: You got stress...you got challenges...and you've been fighting the good fight all the years I have known you. In that kind of situation, it's hard to downshift for fear of stripping the clutch on the way down.
Am I making any sense?
You had a brief encounter with "slow" the other night. You've done it in the past. Seek wisdom in the oddest of places--for now, a street sign.
In Yuppie-dom, USA, there is a sign that says:
"Welcome to Simi Vally: Relax and Slow Down"
I post one up for you:
Welcome to You: Relax and Slow Down.
Just beware if you make a wrong turn and it says:
Nit-Wit Ridge 100 Yards...that's where the scary people are.
For now, I am going back to drawing rainbows (and all the dead Little People at the end of them next to my pot of gold).
Love,
J
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Yes, I need to slow down on a regular basis. Maybe I need more Long Island Ice Tea in my life, or just more reasons to drink it. Instead, I take out my anger and pent-up-ness on the world with my shittacomputer. . . God, I love inside jokes.
Just to bring the others into the inside, the play we went to see had this reoccurring line "shitta_____," like "shittahook" as the word to describe a large hook used in battle. The guy basically used "shitta" as the first part to several words, leaving me the impression that what he was referring to had a more important name, and he knew it, but he couldn't remember it and so used his own little version of "what-the-fuck" followed by a simple description of the item--"shittahook," "shittaknife" (as opposed to words like "scythe" and "broadsword"). Funny. For a while, you may see the Big J and I tacking "shitta" on to the front of a word when we need a laugh. You are welcome to do so as well.
I know. We're shittarandom.
Thank you, J, for all that you do. I smiled. Thank you.
Love,
K
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