Perhaps I should lie on my couch as I write this. I just got a call from my therapist’s office. She had to cancel today and no opportunity to reschedule. I’m afraid this doesn’t bode well. I love my therapist. I was given the opportunity to speak to someone else today, but I’d have to spend all my time getting her up to speed. I can call back and arrange to talk, maybe I should, just to deal with the stress of having my appointment canceled and my fear that this might be permanent. I am catastrophizing. See my therapist has helped me. I stopped writing and did what I always tell everyone else to do, I meditated. I felt like I needed some help getting there so I played Pete Kennedy’s Electric Sitar Meditations. I should tell Medicaid to send the money they would normally give to my therapist to Pete. I still feel some tension in my gut; that might literally be something I ate, I’m a bit queasy. I will meditate more later, and I’ll continue to listen to Pete. This reminds me that I forgot to write in yesterday’s entry on cultural appropriation. Meditation and yoga are two of the most obvious examples that adopting the practices of another culture. Is not wrong. Both meditation and yoga are intimately related to Hinduism. I am not a Hindu, I don’t accept their worldview, but that doesn’t mean that their practices aren’t useful. The efficacy of mediation has been scientifically demonstrated. It doesn’t matter where the ideas come from, only if they are correct. Pete is playing Indian influenced music on a western adaptation of a traditional Indian instrument, the sitar.
I was preadapted for meditation; it comes naturally to me. I know it’s difficult for others. I am not preadapted for yoga, just the opposite. I’d love to do it. I’ve tried, but I’m not very flexible. I know that if I worked at it I would become more flexible and would benefit from it. Perhaps one day I will, but for now I don’t have enough motivation to make the effort. It might be worth it as an excuse to wear yoga pants after the pandemic is over.
I think my digestive system is starting to work things out. This isn’t Crohn’s it’s literally something I ate, but a lifetime of Crohn’s puts you in tune with your viscera. There are no sensory nerves in your intestines, but there are in the muscles surrounding it, that’s what I feel. When I had my ileostomy part of my intestine was outside my body. Touching it was weird as it didn’t feel like part of me. There was no sensation at all. I don’t recommend getting an ostomy just to learn about your body, but it is educational. I could observe exactly what was going on. I found it fascinating.
I was good about something yesterday. I finally got the materials to set up the Facebook Event for John Platt’s On Your Radar. I didn’t open the email until almost 11 PM. I told John I’d get to it today, but I didn’t. I did it last night. I’m getting more efficient at it. I’m getting more efficient creating Gord’s Gold’s too. I just added one of Pete Kennedy’s pieces to next week’s show. I know exactly where it will fit in.
I just fell asleep while typing. I should have checked the character count before I deleted them but there were hundreds of lower-case i’s following one capital. I must have been awake to capitalize the first letter. I’m blaming that on what I ate too. In fact, I might take a nap when I’m done with this until my body is finished dealing with the problem food. It wasn’t a donut. I did not take my Donut Walk™ yesterday as I had to go shopping. I’ll be honest and admit what I ate, it was an entire box of chocolate chip cookies. That is not a healthy dinner. My body is telling me to stop writing and start sleeping. I’m going to listen to it as it’s suffering for last night’s gustatory stupidity.
Wise Madness 