It was about 1:30 pm today. I was dead tired.
What’s wrong with you? You had seven hours’ sleep.
I spent part of the morning wandering patiently from store to store, gathering my necessaries. Then I was on a lovely Zoom call with twenty-four souls from the Evolutionary Collective.
You should be enlivened by the EC call, not stupefied.
It’s time to meditate. Get yourself together and do it.
My bed was calling me. I pulled back the covers in preparation for a glorious immersion.
No! Sleeping now will mess up all your rhythms.
Under the comforter … waiting for comfort.
!!! … !! … ! … zzz …
Recently my eyes opened. The watch said 2:47. I’m a little renewed, and still dozey. Happily, the italics voice has quietened. For the last few days, though, it’s been speaking its mind:
There shouldn’t be a coronavirus.
I shouldn’t be cooped up so much.
I should be sitting at the bar at Boston Pizza, enjoying my nachos and beer while watching large-screen sports.
I should be gearing up to watch my beloved tennis on TV … the French Open in May.
I should be enjoying the presence of the Grade 5/6 kids at the school where I volunteer.
I should be blissfully married, not gazing at the photo of Jodiette on the wall.
I should be an alumnus of the Tour du Canada – a cross-country bicycle ride.
I should be 25 … 30 tops.
I should have kids, and grandkids.
I should be a former Olympic athlete.
What’s true is that I’m well and happy, exploring consciousness with friends, living with a wide-open heart, and knowing that I’ve contributed to the lives of hundreds of children. It is enough.