Remind me again when was it that I was saying all this uplifting stuff about the control of your mind and non-identification?
Oh yes it was only yesterday. Sitting buy a bowl of chunky chips (goodness gracious they were the chunkiest chips on the planet!) and by two cans of non-alcoholic ginger beer freshly squeezed in Jamaica, my friend and I were talking about life. I was very excited I must admit, I haven`t seen her in a while so… but it kind of got in the way because she could hardly express her feelings (the ones she wanted to share) at all.
I have this ugly habit of interrupting people as if I was just about to die choked by water in my lungs (where did the water came from –don`t ask) not in my mouth or throat because I could still talk. And it is not screaming for help kind of thing, I don`t scream at all but it`s this point at which I think I have to spell out everything at once. I mean my friend she is experienced and she can talk you through the whole first aid thing, she is patient and understanding and she knows when to move back so that the water can come out of my chest. She was revelling herself to me as well in between mouth to mouth and chunky chips. Talking to some people sometimes feels like sharing nude moments where everyone else freezes out of uncomfortable, embarrassing feeling and so there is just the two of you enjoying the silence of conversation. But somehow you always have to rush as if this was the last conversation you were going to have before you choke with chunky chip or that water in your lungs which keeps moving upwards.
But that`s not at all what I wanted to say. What I wanted to express today is nothingness, numbness of my head and feelings which are just impossible to control and kind of get in the way this same as the chunky chips or water in your lungs. Yesterday seemed so much brighter. It`s true the weather was slightly brighter too but how can that be a problem, why is it such a problem for everyone? Why is it a problem for me? Why do I think that lack of sunlight (even though it`s always there but you cannot possibly see it because of milky mist and clouds which steal the charms of sun but never show off either) can be blamed for that part of my life which is uninteresting, dull, boring, somewhat heavy and futureless. I mean I read all this let`s call them spiritual self- help books or books written by people who`s done it all, went on a mission, became a monk, fought for Tibet, lived in places where most of us would not even dare to think of, found out all the answers to happiness and spiritual path and then of course wrote a book or two; became somehow someone- who –knows- it- all and lived –it- all-person making people like me really jealous and even more sarcastic. But I believe them. Especially on these days when I am really emotionally vulnerable or divided I soak it all in like a sponge. Then after my lecture I do more cleaning to think it through, or change some furniture around, then run some errands like buying baby clothes for other people`s babies or que in the post office with packages to be sent to the mothers of the babies; or I might go to the library and scan some books into my bag hoping that something will might to wrong so I get a random conversation with the defeated librarian about wind which is to be blamed for the slow computer system; or I might go to the bank and scan me some money into my account, not too much just a few quid and I pretend that I don`t know this new system and so a swollen banker from last night`s two bottles of wine drunk all by herself or maybe with her cat, will kindly explain to me all the logistics getting lost herself in the middle of the monkey business but she won`t give up and she watches my hands when I press the buttons to make sure that I am doing it at the right speed. Ufff… But there was no rush. I was one of the bravest ones who would actually voluntarily let a machine eat your money in hope that it will end up in your account. And it did with a speed of a changing weather in England or wind that blows your hats off or buries your umbrellas. Then I might go and buy some random necessities like milk or tea and have a conversation kind of about not knowing where my Co-op`s loyalty cards could be gone. Maybe it`s the rabbit. He always borrows things and never brings them back and then you have to be looking around the house for it only to realize that you last made use of it as a book marker but you can`t find the book either. But they don`t believe you and they don`t want to know it either. Just call the help line, would you? No conversation zone here please. I think they should make it a standard rather than people like me getting lost thinking that you can talk just about anything you like. That`s just wrong since the machines. No gems, no spitting, no sneezing in your face, no hand shaking, no weather talk. Efficient, and to the point please.
Somehow I think that the West has taken some of the Buddhist ideas to seriously with a western twist of course. In the West we mix and match, I mean we can never get enough. So yes, talk as little as possible, as little face to face interaction so that we can do more, we can achieve more, we can make more. Go and talk to the machine. It won`t hurt you with silly comments; it won`t flood you with every little detail of their complicated lives, it won`t give you any diseases. So maybe when I find a real person and attention , like a gold fish which went crazy doing pirouettes in her aquarium and suddenly found herself flat on the carpet gasping for air- I choke out of excitement!
