Friday, April 27, 2012

Your fingers weave quick minarets, speaking secret alphabets

On the highway this morning, a car with two young women tailgated the fuck out of me on the off ramp. I wasn't going terribly slow, but I was being harried as is if I was. My response to this event was to rant like a lunatic, hurling out expletives too salty even for this fisherman's tavern of a blog and waving my fist with righteous menace. The driver of that car was being an asshole and came awfully close to hitting me, but I would have preferred a more zen-like response on my part.

Here's the thing, though: in the thick murk of the moment, it's extremely difficult, due to ego conditioning and  primordial instinct, to react sensibly. Alternative, healthier reactions tend not to spring up as quickly as the surge of indignation and fear for one's safety. It's as close to an involuntary reaction as you can get. One moment you're thinking about skipping through the sun-dappled  meadow with a silky pony at your side and the next you're screaming about rotten bitches like a maniac and gesticulating like Red Bull-addled chimp. It's quite the trip, being human.

Ok, so I lost it. And, in the interest of full disclosure, I lost it again later on in the day in the belly of after-work traffic, mortified that I, center of the universe, had to sit through it. Looks like all that meditating and yoga and healthy eating has really paid off, you're saying to yourself sardonically (I thought we were friends. Best friends). I said it to myself in the same manner more than once today. The above-mentioned practices have paid off, though, and here's how: Almost immediately after each episode, I called my ego out on its bullshit with no punches pulled. My truer self assessed the situation impartially. And that was it. I moved on. In the past, I think I would have stewed until I was spent. Or at least until I was distracted by something else.

I'm confident I'll have more incidents like I described above and I'm equally confident I'll handle them swiftly and move on. And maybe, the more I stay on top of these incidents, they will diminish and finally become so barely perceptible they may as well not exist.

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Fred just left for the weekend and I've got the house to myself. Not for long, I suspect. Tomorrow, I think Rae will be moving out the rest of her belongings and I'm not sure when Matt wants to move in, but it could be as early as Sunday. I'll find out when I meet up with him tomorrow.

Almost through watching season 3 of Breaking Bad. The show has it's flaws but they are eclipsed by its strengths. Can't remember where I heard this, but someone proffered the idea that television shows, the really good ones (and there have been more really good ones than ever before), have become the new literature. Makes sense. Some shows, like The Wire or Breaking Bad, have the feel of great literature. One no longer has to pick up Dickens or Cervantes to have one's spirit pierced deeply. This is good news for all you non-readers who are not reading this blog.

Time to put the heat on. I held out last night but I was rocking a chill for most of the night. Some yoga first. And then watch some Life's Too Short, which gets me feeling all jolly like.

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