Tuesday, March 29, 2011

Zen and the Art of...

I am sitting amidst a swirling mass of entropy. It happened when I wasn't looking. And now, I look around at the chaos and realise that I have to do something about it before I tackle the story I'm supposed to write for Theresa. I can't get down to it with this all around me.

Of course, when you've got a busy day planned it doesn't help when you only wake up at noon. But I didn't sleep the night before (heat, mosquitoes) and then I had an early assignment (went for it zombiefied, although the woman I ended up interviewing was beautiful, vital, articulate and pretty damn amazing so I kind of woke up).

Called Theresa to brief her over the phone and then it was off to Bangsar Village to see Harvinder. I hung out with her, watched her students make quilts, sari blouses and check out the different stitches they could do over the funky new Brother sewing machine, and read the last bit of my Global Soul. Finished now. I was progressively colder and more tired so I repaired upstairs to have a hot chocolate (with whipped cream) and a doughnut and kept dropping off at the table. Wondered how I would drive back through rush hour traffic like this.

I did.

Happy to say I only crashed in my bed. With young Arnold sleeping nearby. I needed to wake up to go to Backyard but there I was, still in work clothes, crumpled up on the bed, utterly exhausted. I couldn't think a few minutes ahead, let alone a few hours. I was meeting Addy tonight or (and Mark, please forgive me for this) I would have given it a miss.

It was a lovely night and Addy gave me a fabulous Christmas present (I love elastic Christmasses almost as much as I love elastic birthdays) and now I'm awake and the headache that plagued me most of yesterday is gone. Because I SLEPT.

All better now.

Now I will lie here, read some of my Robert Pirsig and procrastinate some more until I figure out what I want to do first.

OK I just realised I cannot lie here and procrastinate because I have to make some fish curry, herbed broccoli and rice.


I want to sleep again.

Addendum: The lunch is cooked. It's 3.13pm now. Late late lunch. Poor Dadda. He was so looking forward to that fish curry. Dunno how it turned out. As is typical, cooking the food and feeding off the smell, I lost my appetite. That and having two peanut butter sandwiches at noon. Instead I'm having the tomato juice that Mary gave me. It's delicious and so satisfying. Now I'm surveying the chaos around my room and trying to psyche myself up to tackle it. What to do first?

Further addendum: I've started a desultory arranging of books. I love books. Now I just got too many. Another bookshelf is called for. Urgently.

Note from the Universe: Take it, make it, bake it, go.

Note from James Taylor:

It's like a honey to the bee, babe
sugar to the sugarcane, jelly to the doughnut
it's like a walk to a lonely man
over and over
to be loved
to be loved
to be truly truly loved
to be loved
to be loved
to be truly truly loved

I've finished my tomato juice. Need to get some more because it was delicious and satisfying.

My room is still a mess. Less of a mess. But still a mess. Swirling vortex of entropy. Dear old Sheldon. Need to attack corners with a broom. But arrange stuff first. Yes. Organise.

I do not like organising to begin with.


Note from Thanissaro Bhikku's Hang On To Your Ego:

But ego functions don't just say No. They also have a mediator's sense of when to say Yes. If they're skillful, they negotiate among your desires and your super-ego so that you can gain the pleasure you want in a way that causes no harm and can actually do a great deal of good.

And lastly, let's hear from good ole Henley:

I'm learning to live without you now
But I miss you sometimes
The more I know
the less I understand
all the things I thought I'd figured out
I have to learn again
I've been trying to get down
to the heart of the matter
but everything changes
and my friends seem to scatter
and I think it's about
forgiveness, forgiveness
even if you don't love me anymore.

1 comment:

Jenn said...

Reach inside of me;
through the clay, through the forest,
deep into the clouds.
Open me; there's only sky,
one restless bird flying west.