Made a discouraging series of phone calls to several offices today. I feel like I haven't accomplished anything, despite my repeated explanations to phone-reps whom I will only ever know by their first names. They're paid to absorb my words while simultaneously clicking keys to connect me to someone else -- a scheduler, a
receptionist, a lab tech -- someone else. One someone says I should see the doctor; one someone says I should
speak to a nurse. Someone else suggests I should call my insurance office. Or another office. Can I hold? Yes, do you mind if I seethe while I'm waiting?
Instead, while I wait, I scan my own mind to locate my interior voice and yes, it's still there. It speaks right up and says, ‘This is how I will help myself.’
First, sinking into a worn-familar Jesus-calm, I'll remember my baptism while I take a warm shower. (A wiser someone once recommended that to a group of us, as we were sitting at one of those long, rectangle church-tables in an actual basement, years ago. I've found it also applies when you just feel like you're in a basement.)
Next, I'll brush my hair, as I’ve done thousands of times, as my mother once did. It's a healthier kind of bristling, the kind that helps me make decisions.
First, sinking into a worn-familar Jesus-calm, I'll remember my baptism while I take a warm shower. (A wiser someone once recommended that to a group of us, as we were sitting at one of those long, rectangle church-tables in an actual basement, years ago. I've found it also applies when you just feel like you're in a basement.)
Next, I'll brush my hair, as I’ve done thousands of times, as my mother once did. It's a healthier kind of bristling, the kind that helps me make decisions.
And then I will actually play some of the CD’s I have accumulated over
the years. I buy them on impulse. The particular genius of these songs is how quickly they were able to scrawl their initials across my day planner. "I’ll take that CD," I had said to the clerk, whom I only know by her name tag. "Yes, the one
that’s been playing in the background while I’ve been shopping, while I’ve been plugging in my PC to work from here, while I’ve been sipping my burning hot latte. I’ll have one
of those." I had said it again and again and I took them home, planning to dialogue often with each one of them, but I seldom play them. Seems that those little square plastic cases laminate the very same tunes they make portable. So my CD's have been stacked up for a long time now, stifled, unable to sway me. Gradually the local Goodwill drop-off boxes have accepted my discards.
Today I pry one open and insert the disk. A melody brushes out past me and, sure enough, circles back to shush me. I'm bluetoothing it into my skin. Turns out you can choose what's indelible about a day.
Today I pry one open and insert the disk. A melody brushes out past me and, sure enough, circles back to shush me. I'm bluetoothing it into my skin. Turns out you can choose what's indelible about a day.
