Back Home Again in Indiana
We’ve been going through some things over here in the last yearish, so it shouldn’t be overly surprising that while I was randomly browsing Barnes and Noble, I picked up a self-help book. Yes, it’s filled with phrases like “find your truth”, but it’s also pretty chock full of swear words so it balances out. What I failed to remember when picking up said book is what a sucker I am for this crap.
You give me a good pep talk, and I am fired. up. Seriously. Give me a solid speech about how just one pint of blood saves three lives, and I’ll forget that just the thought of giving blood makes me nauseous and my elbow cracks achy and give you all the blood I have. Tell me that if I stretch for 5 minutes a day, I can eventually reach my arm up and touch the moon, and I’ll stretch for 30 minutes a day with a goal of touching Saturn. Drone on about how losing is a disease, and I’ll sign up for med school right then and there.
I’m telling you this because I have a feeling things are about to get weird around here. I finished this book about a week ago and am now raring to go. I’m re-framing thoughts, attempting (and mostly failing) to meditate, and am lost in visions of vision boards. Is it working? It’s hard to say as there’s also been a fair amount of wine involved. But if people can be cured by acupuncture, surely 5 minutes of meditation can’t hurt.