Canyons of the Mind

January 29, 2011

Every so often as she helped me wage war on stiffness my physical therapist would look at me and say “breathe”.  The more a stretch hurt the more I locked my muscles down like boats in a storm.  I braced so hard for impact that I completely forgot to come up for air.

Breathe, said th evoice in my head today.  Breathe.   So that’s what I’ve been forgetting to do lately.  Deja vu all over again.  I get swamped and I zero in, determined to slog through.  Too bad, because if I had shifted my gaze beyond the next two feet of mud I might have seen the raft going by.  A helpful nudge from the universe was sitting right there hollering and waving at me.

Single-minded focus is a flawed and exhausting defense mechanism.  The snow crowds the roads and makes ski slopes of sidewalks.  Why let idle thoughts scrape the rafters of my mind?

I don’t know how to do things with quiet purpose.  I’m either unmoved or enchanted, paused or running wild.  Maybe if I listen to this long enough it will clear some space in my head.


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