Words can’t really describe my experience in meditation class last night. I’ve illustrated it instead. As you can see, I’m an awesome artist.
(Click for a larger picture)
Gum snapping and pen clicking are my two pet peeves. I should clarify- two of my BIGGEST pet peeves (there are many).
I was early and proud of myself as I’m usually 10-15 minutes late, forever underestimating the drive. Then I had to run up to my apartment three times. And by the time I pulled out of the parking lot, I was running late.
Six-thirty and the sun was about to set. I tried to turn east onto the main road and the sun was so intense that I was blinded until I rearranged the visor and shaded my eyes.
I headed east out of Boulder Valley toward the Rock Bottom Brewery to meet my friends. I felt rushed, annoyed at running late. Van Morrison played on the radio. He performed a concert in Denver that night and the local station played a marathon immediately prior. While at a stop light, I looked in my rear view mirror and saw the sun, a bright fire-red orb, slip behind indigo mountains, turning the sky into brilliant shades of red, orange, yellow, and purple. I was stunned, watching until the last sliver disappeared behind a dark purple peak.
The light changed and I continued on and soon the sun returned to the sky, then set again. I hit a stretch of highway and sped up and once again the sun hovered over the mountains, about to set. As I sped up a hill, the sun rose higher and higher until it was a few inches over the peaks. I smiled, thinking,
“How many sunsets does someone usually get to watch in one day?”
I reached the high plateau and headed south. Sweet Thing by Van Morrison started playing. I turned to see the indigo Rockies towering over the wide expanse of rolling golden plains. Sunsets defy time. The moments leading to it seem to slow down as you wait, anticipating the last second, not wanting to blink for fear of missing it. Each second lasts a minute and the sun taunts and teases until it finally kisses the Rockies and the plains blush a tint of red in response. Then a shift: time speeds up and within seconds the last sliver of red disk disappears behind the peaks.
I stuck my arm out the window, opening my hand to feel the wind lift it then pointing my fingers to drop. Repeatedly catching the wind in my hand and enjoying the sensation through my fingers and against my skin. Before me the plains divided, bright and golden to the east and russet to the west until they disappeared into the blue shadow of the Rockies.
I felt something rise in my chest, my throat and then my eyes. I was crying. Gratitude. Awe. Happiness. That’s what I was feeling. Complete satisfaction and joy, harmony with the Universe.
“Thank you,” I whispered. “Thank you for this moment.”
I was desperate to cling to it and not let it fade away into the abyss that had recently engulfed my life.
I’ve been super busy at work lately, except for today. Why not? Absinthe= devil water. You try a sip, it’s okay, nothing spectacular. But then fifteen minutes later, you’re reaching for it again. Then again, stealing more and more sips. Then before you know it, it’s four am and for whatever reason it’s a great time to clean your apartment. Not that you exactly remember what happened between eleven and four.
At seven, you’re climbing out of bed and dragging yourself to work thinking, “I hate black licorice. How did this happen to me?” At work you realize that you haven’t showered or brushed your teeth, and it’s nearly like a walk of shame but without the midnight tryst. I think.
All I really know is that I need to finish this coffee and then brush my teeth because gross.
Fuck.
What am I, 22? I’m too old for this shit.
Also? I should have considered deodorant this morning.
I can’t help it, it’s what I do. New plans, procedures, ideas packaged and presented to me, “Mount, this is how we’re going to handle this situation in the future.” I look at it and within a few seconds respond, “What if . . .” Sometimes it’s welcomed for troubleshooting at work and finding serious loopholes that need to be fixed before we are required to fight a fire. Sometimes it annoys the crap out of people. Sometimes it freezes me- a temporary paralysis that won’t release its grip until I’ve figured out, what if? It’s part of my anxiety disorder.
My parents moved to Michigan Wednesday morning and we went to dinner Tuesday. I figured my aunt and her family would be my surrogate, make sure I’m okay, feed my cats, bail my ass out of jail- whatever. However, one trivial comment by her sparked a revelation. Hundreds of things always dormant in my memory jumbled together in a jigsaw box- phrases, words, actions-instantly pieced together.
My aunt is only superficially nice and generous. For fuck’s sake- we lived around the corner from her for two years and I still only saw her a handful of times a year. Bottom line- she doesn’t like to be inconvenienced. Even for her niece whose sister committed suicide and parents are moving to Michigan, leaving my aunt as the only family in town. What an inconsiderate selfish bitch. No wonder my mom was always pissed at her. I was naïve in thinking it would change simply because my parents moved.
Then it started. What if I’m lying in a ditch somewhere and no one even notices I’m gone? What if I end up in the hospital and have no way to get home except by a $90 cab fare? What if I have an emergency and need to leave town and don’t have time to line up a few friends to watch my cats? What if I’m lonely? What if I get a flat tire or my car breaks down? What if I lose my job and I need food? What if I get the flu? Oh god- they were all remote and improbable until I hit that one. What if I get the stomach flu and can’t get to the store to get stuff to make me more comfortable because I’m lying on the bathroom floor- crammed between the litter box and toilet, just wishing I’d die?
Logically, I know that I’ll figure it out and I’ll be fine. But the full weight of how truly on my own I now am squeezed my guts. The only two people in close proximity who give a fuck about me left.
Ultimately, what can I do? I can only try to break the “what if” cycle and not worry about it. And try to befriend one of my neighbors. And keep a huge container of powdered Gatorade handy in case I get the stomach flu and can’t drive the block to Safeway due to basement and attic problems.
Maybe I should get some popsicles too.
Just in case.
Speedy update for all those who are wondering what’s going on:
1) Living alone is going pretty good, just getting used to bills and stuff. (Seriously Xcel Energy- I hope you fucking die an agonizing death involving maggots. And then I hope bullet ants eat the maggots and then shit them out and maggots eat it. And then you go into a vicious maggot-eating maggot crap that used to be Xcel Energy cycle. )
2) The crack head hippie neighbors who live below me with their adult-wannabe-hip-hop-gangster-felon son, drive me nuts about 75% of the week. Their constant smoking, screaming matches and unbelievable loudness in general cause me to fantasize about heavy objects falling through my floor and landing on their heads. Is that bad? Even though I’m a pacifist, I don’t feel bad about my violent thoughts. . .
3) I have no internet or speedy computer, a contributing factor for my disappearance.
4) I’m done hibernating in my apartment in front of Netflix.
5) My GGBFF (Gay Gemini BFF), JD is moving away next week. What a jerk.
6) My commute to work ROCKS.
7) I’ve done a few awesome spiritual workshops this past month.
8) I’m beige right now. Call it neutral and coasting, a relief from the rollercoaster ride that is my life. Or call it flat-lining. Whatever.
9) The waterboy quit his job, leaving us with a boring waterboy. I asked the Universe to have me run into him again if he likes me. He’s back. I’m about 99% sure that this means he wants me in every unbiblical and biblical way imaginable. Well, 99.9% sure.
10) Parents orphaning me and JD abandoning me aside, I’m doing pretty well right now. Unfortunately, nothing interesting is happening. I’m beige.
11) I’m camping in Northern Utah next weekend-close to a 20-hour round trip for 48 hours of camping (meeting my Bozeman friend in Utah). *sigh* If it were Central or Southern Utah, I could go stalk Dirty Pirate Hooker on the way there. I need to plan a camping trip over a non-holiday weekend. By camping, I mean I’d camp in her front yard. I’d link to her, but my post is lame and I don’t want to insult her until after I stalk her.
That basically sums up my life at the moment.
