trimming the roses & Zen

I don’t ask for help until long after I should have. I have been asking for help this week. Hormones, diet or circumstances, something has left me with no resilience, no stasis. Still days go by.


7:30 am – Trimming the roses is an hour of peace I never knew before I had a rose bush.

9 am – The company of a good friend is comforting. And there were many years I didn’t have that, so I am still surprised daily that I do.


12:30 pm – The threat of tomorrow, and the way my mind will move through work tomorrow, threatens to take away any peace in the rest of today, and send me in loops of despair.

12:37 pm – I decide that I need to stop caring. About anything. Take a step back. Somehow it helped. Letting go of attachment to anything and everything made it seem like life could go on all around me, and roll of my back, speed past me, swirl in turbulent eddies while I sat on a rock observing. Unaffected.

I remember the Zen outlook that got me through adolescence and early adulthood until I eventually all my repressed emotions locked me in a moment in time in the 7th ring of hell. Then therapy and a hundred other ways to change the storage and organization of this mind and heart, and gave me a fear of detachment and of Zen.

But today little Zen got me through the afternoon quietly. Tomorrow is tomorrow. I can process things then.


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