Tuesday, August 16, 2016

These are the days...

Some of the best days, I've come to find, are a curious detachment.  It only makes sense that if one wakes up often enough over the course of a life to become accustomed to discomfort of some sort, or of every sort, that in the absence of these ailments, one would be unfamiliar with the sensation that others take for granted. Wellness would become alien.  That is to say, if one defines wellness by the absence of pain, then it would be an awfully strange sensation of the sort that might make a person question their identity, or at least their whereabouts.

Welcome to my world.

The intensity of gravity itself can feel different from one day to the next, but that's the other part of it.  One can become accustomed to waking up in unfamiliar settings so they idea is to just accept whatever you wake up to and move through it.  Sooner or later all the familiar landmarks come into focus, or not.  Either way you just move through it.

Endurance.

There was this article this morning, prefaced by a quote from Emily Dickinson, called The Gift of Disassociation (click).  I can't say I have been blessed by involuntary forgetfulness.  There are growing levels of acceptance where peace can be found, but now I'm going off course.  What I'm addressing here is the discipline of accepting what you wake up with and getting on with it.  I do wish sometimes my memory were not so acute but that's not the case, despite what this other article says about the prevalence of false memories (click). 

I get it.

I do.s

I've also had a lot of time to sort through what is true and what is false.  You'll have to take my word for it. Well, you don't have to.  That's your choice unless my pain is so painful for you that you involuntarily disassociate... oops.  Sorry.

But now I've tried to be so clever with embedded links that I've lost track.  It was something about a curious absence of pain being almost as unsettling as the pain itself.  Figure out for yourself whether you can identify with that.

It's Tuesday.  We know that much.  I'm up before dawn, out with the dog, and into the rest of the routine. 

Weights
Crunches
Meditation
Sweat

No shortage of sweat.  It feels... cleansing.  More than just a physical cleanse too.  It is purifying.  Edifying?  Must look that up.  No shortage of sweat but a shortage of words.  Now I'm off to sit by myself in a vast roomful of people, and call strangers to talk about cancer.  Why cancer?  Why not.  Talk about anything. Sell anything.  It's a living. 

Who am I?

Today I am a salesman. 

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