I'm still meditating in the mornings. There's no levitation or affectation of saffron robes yet, or any other zen-like powers manifesting. If anything is resulting from this ongoing experiment, it has so far remained subtle. Despite my natural resilience to boredom I am still surprised that the exercise does not threaten me with boredom when I do it. I actually find the experience a kind of enjoyable addition to my morning routine, right after I wake up. Sometimes its easier to focus on just the breathing and sometimes it's not as easy. Nevertheless, the task itself is relaxing and kind of fun, even when my brain is not feeling particularly disciplined as it is wont to be on some mornings.
I just got back from the grocery a couple of hours ago. Gah, my shopping list is so predictable. Heh. I did treat myself to a couple of bottles of cabernet though, as well as some frozen lasagna. If it weren't cheaper than eating out every single night I wouldn't bother. Grocery shopping for one often seems like a banal activity. I'm complaining about something over which I have complete control, I know. No outgo means that one continues to live hermetically. Inspiration and motivation are wonderful things, when they are more consistently present. Sometimes my complacency is a familiar companion and at others, a house guest who has begun to tax my hospitality.
Since I was going to the store this evening, I stopped at The Clown first for fast food. Kitty, the cashier at the window, and yes, I do know a few of them by name, anticipated my order. I started giving my order: "Quarter-Pounder with cheese meal, large size, with a Diet Coke for the drink," when she helpfully finished the ritual for me: "...and an additional Quarter-Pounder with cheese on the side?" Brat. She's cute and personable though. Cute gets away with murder. As I said, about so many things, I can be predicable.
I spoke to Mom before heading out to the store. She was on line writing an e-mail to some of her old high school chums at the time. She informs me that a rather large raccoon has been attempting to make the space under the eaves in the attic at my grandmother's house his home. Apparently, he's a rather large fellow, around 35 pounds. Dad saw the critter climb up the roof and go into a hole under the eaves and then went into the attic and saw the varmint in there. Unfortunately, the space was too small and confined for my father to negotiate with his knees so he couldn't get at the raccoon. He and my uncle Larry set up a cage-trap the next day and baited it with sardines. My uncle is an avid trapper and raccoon hunter, or used to be when he was younger. He may be losing his touch. Tonight my dad and he found their trap robbed of bait and no raccoon prisoner was anywhere to be found.
Sometimes Mom worries me lately. She seems to occasionally "lose track" of rather common terms, like "exhaust pipe" or "sardines" even though her mind seems to be otherwise its usual sharp self. We'll be talking and she'll ask me a question like, "What's the name of that fish that comes in the can that you open with a key?" Maybe she was just tired or something.
I was awake far too late last night. Ugh. When insomnia bites I have trouble focusing my eyes sharply the next day, even with my glasses on my nose. This never happens when I get enough sleep. I fear that this is one indicator of advancing age. Again I say that mortality sucks mud through a straw. At least I don't need bifocals yet. I should get my eyes checked. It has been far too long since I last did that and my prescription has more than likely changed.
I usually don't mind being indecisive. I like taking my time making up my mind and ruminating over my options, in most cases. Sometimes though, I get to feeling like being between a rock and a hard place. I hate to be in a position of not knowing what to think about a particular set of circumstances, especially when it comes to other people. Grumble. It's taxing. What can really be annoying is when faced by the kind of dilemma wherein, for example, "Condition A" is more desirable but less likely to be the case and "Condition B" is less desirable but more likely to be the case and there is no easy way to obtain more information or get a handle on the data I already have. What's worse is that I have an active imagination and a tendency to rationalize that which I wish were truth. My thoughts keep bouncing back and forth between the possibilities like one of those often annoyingly ambiguous lens tests at the eye doctors: "Does it look better this way, or that way?" Balderdash. It's a vexing habit of mind but I can't think of any way to curb the phenomenon or get a handle on more objectivity.
I think I shall readily find sleep this evening. That is always a plus. Tomorrow is a new country full of possibilities.