About Avoiding Bears

Post 609:

There’s a place I go in my mind when it’s all just a bit too much. Oh, the world. Silly, silly old world. You know, talking about when it’s quicksand. Example. One of those half-hour sequences where you get dumped for vague reasons that sound a lot like serious and accurate character indictments and you’re stuck in traffic moving at the speed of maple syrup, meanwhile you’re hot and cold at the same time which sounds like something antithetical to physical existence, and earlier you threw out your back out by turning in your chair and that has you feeling pathetic because let’s face it and it also has you feeling older because let’s face it.

            You know. Quicksand.

            But like I said before, there’s a place I travel to. Several places, actually, but one gets the award as my numero uno destination for transcendental meditation. No, I won’t tell you names. I’ll just say it’s a certain lake in Montana in the last days of summer, just as the sun’s dipping down over the mountains. The water’s glass. There’s no sweat and no shivers. The world seems so amazing, all the mundane seems to make sense. Mundane life is Chief Brody, there to step out onto the plank to give the Great White World some scale. Relativity and all that.

That was a stretch.

But seriously. That place in my mind is unblemished, no honking cars or malignant muscle strains. Relationships? Sorry. Can’t be bothered to care. I mean, look around.

            Yes. I’m a grown man running from my problems and literally invoking daydreams to numb the pain. Hey, things may be desperate, but we’ll save that for another time.

            Right now, I want to touch on that picture I painted.

            Here’s what interesting. That was a moment that I lived, and more than likely, I appreciate it now more than I did at the time.

            This is one of those age-old conundrums. Sometimes I do age-old conundrums. I know… courageous, right?

            I want to appreciate those sweet moments. Meditation freaks me out. All that quiet. Quiet is what proceeds every bad thing that ever happened in a horror movie. I need some sort of alternative methodology for relishing every last drop of good from this jump-scare world. Before you suggest drugs, that’s just ridicu—drugs are a thing to be avoided at all costs—that includes booze—booze is totally ineffect—

            Far as I’m aware, there is no existing device on the market that gets the job done. (Side effect free) So I’m calling on those of you out there that are currently idle to use a piece of your hard drives to come up with something.

            My hopes aren’t high, to be honest. And probably, that’s okay. Because even though I project myself through time and space to that lake in the mountains, when I was actually there, I was probably complaining that it might rain later or that I was most likely being stalked by a ravenous bear.

            But I don’t think about bears when I travel back. And from now on, I’m going to try to block out the bears of here and now. Just take it all in. Appreciate things. Free of bears. So… that might be the weirdest string of thoughts I’ve put together.

            Cheers. Live a lot. See you after.