Wednesday, October 26th, 3:31 P.M.
Yesterday, when I did my osher exercises after my
failed shopping experience with Grace, I found a nice little park just outside
of the main shopping center of Vierdestad.
A nice little patch of nature with large, leafy trees, soft plastic
playground equipment, and lots of sunshine.
The park serves as a great environment to practice the skills people use
to hide, evade, and kill people. Sure,
this place is also a great place for kids to play, but places can serve
multiple purposes.
When you begin any osher exercise, whether you plan
to work on something small or something large, the first thing you do is
meditate. You sit on the ground, close
your eyes, and scrub. You scrub your
mind of all thoughts, distractions, pressures, anxieties, stresses,
expectations, all of it. You scrub and
scrub and scrub untill your mind is a clear slate. I know how this ritual works after having it
drubbed into my head by my Dad.
Therefore, the first thing I did when I set out to do my osher exercises
is meditate. However today I was unable
to do so. I was unable to clear my
mind. Distractions kept on entering
it. Distractions from one source.
It was a bright sunny day today. Like any other bright sunny day at any other
park, parents brought their kids out to play.
All over the park were joyous, exuberant, and otherwise loud
children. Like ants pouring out of an
anthill, there were dozens of kids scurrying on, over, underneath, and through
every inch of this park. Many times
during my attempts to meditate, I was interrupted by a child or a group of
children running past me, screaming aloud as they did so.
Usually when things like this happen I get very
annoyed. Usually I look at all these
loud screaming kids and my feelings of rage start to rise. Today that didn't happen. Today I was not annoyed by these kids. Instead, I looked at those kids enjoying
themselves and I smiled. These kids
enjoying themselves made me happy. Not
only that, for the first time that I can remember, I can see myself having kids
of my own. Weird.
Later.
Hato Shurtleff
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