I am, again, enlisting the calming aroma of patchouli incense and the mesmerizing sound of “spa” music in my attempts to engage peacefully with the day. These are not the weapons of war, nor the instruments of surrender. They are simply tools that may be pleasantly useful in shaping my encounter with the moments I confront with the passage of time. Are they effective tools? Or are they just symbols of the ease with which I can mislead myself or be misled? At what point does open-mindedness become raw gullibility?
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Yesterday, again, after waking at 3:00 a.m., I wanted the world to leave me alone for a while…to stop taunting me. Hoping again to slip into a serene sense of calm, I opted to burn incense and listen to soothing sounds. However, in short order I came to realize that typing, thinking, and attempting to focus my attention on a specific objective are not gentle on my mind. I quickly learned that I wanted to achieve a state of tranquility without expending any effort; I wanted to wish myself into a placid state of mind, without having to work at it. So, I abandoned the blogging endeavor, deciding instead to take a wee-hours nap on a living room sofa. Roughly 90 minutes later, I woke. When I looked out the window, I thought I saw the dim remnants of sunlight…it must be early evening, still, but not too early to return to watch another episode of Line of Duty. So I went into the kitchen, grabbed a plastic container of peanut-butter-filled pretzels, and went into the entertainment room (assuming mi novia might already be there). She was not, so I went looking for her. I slipped quietly into the bedroom, where I saw that she was sleeping under the bed covers. I spoke to her: “Are you all right? It’s rare for you to nap at this hour.” She replied that she was fine and inquired about the time. I said, “It’s 5:53,” and she responded that she was not napping…she was still asleep from the night before. My confusion vaporized in an instant; I apologized. I slipped under the covers and went back to sleep. When I woke a bit later, I got up and began the day again; fully conscious, this time, that the sun had risen only an hour or so earlier. But the earlier…quite confusing…experience of mistaking the middle of the night for late afternoon rattled me. I did not return to the blog yesterday. I spent the day, instead, wondering whether the strange episode might be a forewarning that something is amiss in the deepest recesses of my brain.
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DG, thanks for your perspective on this. I truly appreciate your opinion, sir!
Linda, thanks so much for keeping track of me and for silent reflection and prayer. Your words mean a great deal to me. I think of you often, Linda, and wonder whether you are still so diligent and dedicated to writing…I’ll be you are!
I am of the opinion that sometimes it does not matter whether the tools are effective or are allowing you to mislead yourself. If the serenity you are searching for is found, you have done what you set out to do…
Peace be with you, my friend. I’ve read so much of what you’ve shared without a single comment. That’s because I didn’t know what to say, and my mom always told me, “if you don’t know what to say, stay silent.” This morning reading your post, I wanted you to know that I’ve been on this journey with you…in the doctor’s office, traveling to MD Anderson, the treatments, all of it. I’m here in silent reflection and prayer. I often try to place myself in your situation to see if I can truly understand what you are going through. I can’t, but I can lift you in prayer and hope. Shalom and know that I’m right here.