136. Up

Waiting in the cinema for an old friend, and a showing of National Live Theater direct from London, which should make me feel all cultivated, pleasantly aloof and stylish. Instead I feel like a vagabond of sorts.

I biked up here from my rent-an-office-space, the parka not being quite right because the weather is in-between autumn and spring still; and my general physical condition is below average. I have my bag, an older ruck-sack, with the newer computer and slips of paper, a pen, and extra power cables, just in case.

So, yeah, I feel more like a pile-of-something, not quite right, not quite ‘up there’, because the clothes, the packing and the general sense-of-who-I-am is not quite ‘up there’.

Oh, and while I biked I got a call from Char who wanted to warn me that she had thrown up over everything but still had to go to a meeting. She had cleaned up best she could, though.

That’s perfectly All Right, you know. For a second I thought we might be going to the hospital because the birth had started, or ¬†– for a minor (but definitely less comfortable) split second – I thought that perhaps something serious had happened to her and/or the baby.

Neither turned out to be true. It was just puke.

I can deal with that.

And also, while I don’t feel dressed right, or-in-right-shape, there is one thing, of course, that I can do to feel better right away:

I can sharpen my thoughts.

Yes, I can sit down and wait and just look at the crowd and force myself to think slower and more pronounced, just to myself. Like I was slowly and very delicately making a report for posterity that should have a certain poetic value to it in order for anyone to want to read it.

I’ve contemplated this way of being aware of my thought before and of shaping them and how it might help me to calm down and feel more present and calm. I might as well use it as a way to do so now. When I don’t feel particularly well, otherwise.

I can’t change clothes. I can’t get into shape. I can’t just magically impose order on the thousand uncertainties in my life right now (again).

But I can sit down and think. Slowly. Precisely. With care. Much care.

And regain some sense of being ‘up there’. I don’t know how else to describe it.

So here it is then, the start:

There is a great power in relations
And all around me I see that power:
A senior group
A family
And more

That power is also what has kept me up
Through the years
Even though I have often doubted that it was there
Or neglected its maintenance
But right now I will start
Through that simple appreciation
And thus look even more forward to the