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| Inspired by MLusk of Weather Records |
I know this now. Two nights ago I drew myself an Epsom salt bath, which I do sometimes, and as I laid in the bath I read. And then I put the book down and tried to not think. Some people call that meditation, which was actually what I was thinking about. Huh, I said to myself, this is meditation. I think I once told someone one of my talents was the ability to let my mind go blank. I remember this statement, but I don't know to whom I said it to or when. As far as I can tell, recall, or anything, it is and was a total lie. I realized, sitting there in the salts unable to not think, that I shouldn't be reading on the pot. In the morning I take a bit of newspaper, or my book or even sometimes the laptop into the bathroom with me to read while I do the morning thing on the pot. This usually has the effect of unnaturally prolonging my stay in the bathroom while simultaneously robbing me of some very valuable alone-time. I used to think having something to read while on the pot was a sort of relaxing diversion that eased the flow of things, so to speak. But not anymore. I need to value my alone-time more. I need to learn how to not think. I wonder aloud in my brain if there was ever a time I can remember when I really could meditate; empty my head of thoughts. I keep my mouth shut in my brain, thinking very quietly to myself so myself wouldn't hear me "no, I don't think there was."
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