Equanimity and shit
I am not going to get all yoga instructor on you right now, but I did want to mention, quickly, the benefits of seeking to conduct oneself with equanimity. I am going through this exercise as much for your benefit as my own. Okay, more for me, less for you.
There will always be change. And things will always stay the same. Outside, there is a man walking his black Lab. Just an hour before that, it was a woman with her Jack Russell. The Volvo is parked two spots to the left of where it was earlier since I drove it to the travel agent to amend my trip one more time before the increasingly frazzled, but slightly amused worker can hand me my ticket packet. I pay another amendment fee just because they have to print out another ticket. Once again, the new tenant is parking in our spot. I smile and say hi to her. My sister has a crap boss and got touched inappropriately by a man at work. Her crap boss didn't get that inappropriate touching is something people generally don't appreciate. The little dog took another dump on the walkway three feet from the front door. We are out of plastic bags. We are moving again, at the beginning of December. We will move to a city plagued by smog but blessed with restaurants open past 6 pm. We have to pay property taxes in two cities where we don't live for two houses enjoyed by others. We have to pay money for the accident fund in a country we will leave. We paid money to become residents of that same country. The Winter I hoped for never brought the cold. The Spring howls its beginning with strong winds. The custom surfboard I gave my partner for our anniversary is finally done. My partner is working everytime there is a swell. My mother is telling me negative things. The bird outside whistles as the dusk descends. The Labrador barks at a lost stick. The little dog sleeps in the beanbag. I have no new email.
All of these things happen or will happen or have happened, and I am going to remain calm because there is no good reason to remain frantic; I don't even think it is possible to remain frantic because the wild energy forces the mania to reassert itself in other negative forms that may include anger or sadness or insanity. Ah, insanity. Insanity could be an antonym for equanimity, couldn't it? We don't want that result.
My composure is my buffer to all the flying pieces of crap that seem to launch through the universe to collide upon otherwise divinely aromatic tidbits of existence, thus creating round little fragments of good and bad, sweet and sour, lovely and vile, yin and yang. It is the sugar and the shit, coming together violently to require that a harmonic life actually have the blessing of a little positive, a little negative. It seems to be the law. Who doesn't love laws? With an even mind, it might be easier to call upon the faculties to accentuate the positive smell. Who wants to sniff after a load of poop anyway?
The man who makes underpants was not at pottery yesterday. I decided to make garments in his place, just to try the experience on for size. The underpants I made didn't look hot at all, so I turned them into a vase. I will have a rather large stockpile of vases for any and all who might suffer a dearth of flowerware. Make yourself heard and I will deliver what you need.
There will always be change. And things will always stay the same. Outside, there is a man walking his black Lab. Just an hour before that, it was a woman with her Jack Russell. The Volvo is parked two spots to the left of where it was earlier since I drove it to the travel agent to amend my trip one more time before the increasingly frazzled, but slightly amused worker can hand me my ticket packet. I pay another amendment fee just because they have to print out another ticket. Once again, the new tenant is parking in our spot. I smile and say hi to her. My sister has a crap boss and got touched inappropriately by a man at work. Her crap boss didn't get that inappropriate touching is something people generally don't appreciate. The little dog took another dump on the walkway three feet from the front door. We are out of plastic bags. We are moving again, at the beginning of December. We will move to a city plagued by smog but blessed with restaurants open past 6 pm. We have to pay property taxes in two cities where we don't live for two houses enjoyed by others. We have to pay money for the accident fund in a country we will leave. We paid money to become residents of that same country. The Winter I hoped for never brought the cold. The Spring howls its beginning with strong winds. The custom surfboard I gave my partner for our anniversary is finally done. My partner is working everytime there is a swell. My mother is telling me negative things. The bird outside whistles as the dusk descends. The Labrador barks at a lost stick. The little dog sleeps in the beanbag. I have no new email.
All of these things happen or will happen or have happened, and I am going to remain calm because there is no good reason to remain frantic; I don't even think it is possible to remain frantic because the wild energy forces the mania to reassert itself in other negative forms that may include anger or sadness or insanity. Ah, insanity. Insanity could be an antonym for equanimity, couldn't it? We don't want that result.
My composure is my buffer to all the flying pieces of crap that seem to launch through the universe to collide upon otherwise divinely aromatic tidbits of existence, thus creating round little fragments of good and bad, sweet and sour, lovely and vile, yin and yang. It is the sugar and the shit, coming together violently to require that a harmonic life actually have the blessing of a little positive, a little negative. It seems to be the law. Who doesn't love laws? With an even mind, it might be easier to call upon the faculties to accentuate the positive smell. Who wants to sniff after a load of poop anyway?
The man who makes underpants was not at pottery yesterday. I decided to make garments in his place, just to try the experience on for size. The underpants I made didn't look hot at all, so I turned them into a vase. I will have a rather large stockpile of vases for any and all who might suffer a dearth of flowerware. Make yourself heard and I will deliver what you need.
posted by your friend at Tuesday, September 06, 2005
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