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Day Five: Still

I’m not to move. That’s the whole point. Stillness. Quiet. Immobility of body and mind. Peace.

Take a deep breath and hold it, then exhale. Take a deep breath and hold it. Then exhale. Take a deep breath. Hold. Exhale.

Shit, my rent is due in a week.

No. Let it pass. Like leaves on a stream. Like dust in the wind, that’s all we are is dust – NO. No.

Deep breath. Hold. Exhale.

Heh. “SOH-crates.” That was a funny movie. Better than anything Keanu has done since. Dust in the wind. Wonder whatever happened to the other guy?

STOP that! No thinking, dammit.

In. Hold. Out.

In. Hold. Out.

In. Hold. My leg itches. Right above the knee. Oh, this is gonna suck.

Okay. Ignore it, it’s not there. It’s not itching. There is no itch, there is no leg. I’m perfectly at peace. I am one with the universe and everything in it. I am an entity of light and spirit, and entities of light and spirit do not have itchy knees.

In. Maybe if I just scratch a little. Out. No.

White light. A cool breeze. A pure and perfectly crystalline note sounding through all creation.

Okay. No itch DON’T THINK OF THE ITCH. Concentrate on your breathing. In. Hold. Out.






Remember to make copies of the feasibility study for the Monday meeting. No reason to make Davidson look better by comparison.




Still can’t believe anyone could brown-nose the way he does. Must have his whole head up there.




“Why that’s a BRILLIANT idea, Mr. Newcombe! Let’s hire five new marketing guys! For a product that doesn’t exist yet! That we don’t know how to build! Oh, you’re sooooo smart, can I learn from you, Mr. Newcombe? I can do anything for you, Mr. Newcombe! Let be help you with that belt buckle.”





This isn’t working.

Still mind my left ass.

I can’t believe I let Clarisse talk me into this.

What’s peace of mind supposed to get me, anyway? Will it fix the tranny on the car? Will it make Jayden stop hanging out with those greaseball friends of his? Will it repair the horrible mess I’ve made of my life and the flaky friends and the ex-wife and the dead-eyed zombies that I call my co-workers, will it help with that? Huh? Will breathing do anything to get me in the pants of that girl who works in Sales, the one with the short skirts and that…. Huh? Will it? Man, this is a fraud. This sucks. This has got to be the dumbest thing I have EVER –




Okay. Okay.

Kinda freaked out there. Right. Right. Okay.


I may not be able to do anything about my shitty life, but I can damn well do this.

I can breathe.

I can sit.

That much I can do.

Okay. Start again.


  1. May 28, 2011 at 3:57 AM

    So rude to bust out laughing like I did…just now..still am sort of…hehe. This a fantastic way to show the master of resistance. Ha…really such a great piece.

  2. D.
    June 1, 2011 at 10:31 PM

    This sounds like my brain in yoga… only more coherent… I’m not sure I actually participate in the randomized thoughts going on then, it’s more like… imagine all my characters getting together for a pow-wow while I’m distracted by breathing. Yeah. That. And yes, I am giggling so hard at this.

    • June 1, 2011 at 10:33 PM

      Oh yeah, I think your Cast of Thousands would pose a whole new set of challenges. *grin*

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