Back home after a difficult stay-over (see previous two posts). It is all sort of funny, in sort of a not funny way. I pride myself on being grounded, using meditation and deep-breathing techniques to find an inner peace, to "get my space," but really it is amazing how quickly I can lose my bearings completely.
"Losing My Space," could be my "Losing My Religion."
Being home reminds me how much my space is defined by my things. I have built a little sanctuary of comfort and peace all around me:
a comfy chair in which to meditate and contemplate
a favorite pillow
a familiar bed
my record collection
my books
the air I breathe (no dog-hair here) this is a place where feathered creatures live
Take a fish and plop him in another aquarium, that's what it's like to stay-over at some else's place. Sometimes it's agreeable, and sometimes it's decidedly not.
If you really care about the furry critters you are taking care of (and I do), you totally tune into the creatures. This is a way of giving up your space.
If their hair (which is everywhere) is toxic to you, suddenly, you have difficulty breathing. This is the definition of losing your space. Every breath becomes labored.
It has been a few years since I had an asthma attack. This weekend was the first time (an allergic reaction to the doggies), in a long time. Which is one reason I have been so Covid-Militant (scared to death of getting Covid-19, and taking every precaution). I know what it's like to not be able to breathe freely. Which is why I got a booster shot over the weekend, and, I got a flu shot too. And, I had a bit of a reaction (which is probably good, because it means my immune system is working), but the double dose of VAX and the allergies, laid me out, another example of losing my space.
Basically I had a bad case of the heebie-jeebies for a few days. I also accidentally put my phone thru a full wash-cycle, resulting in a very clean and very dead phone. Another instance where I lost my space, suddenly I was profoundly incommunicado. It is amazing how our phones are now the most important social connector, without a phone, you are adrift, alone.
This morning the calm after the storm. Calm, cool, collected. My companion told me, "gentle," is the new password. Ok, yes, gentle, with myself and the world. Breathing free and clear. Oh yeah, ordered a new phone, it should arrive this morning. Luckily I still use a cheap, flip-phone, so easily replaced, not too painful on the pocketbook.
The a.m soundtrack? "Elvis: 30 #1 Hits" (2002). Yes. The Great American White Whale of Pop Culture. The King. Some of these songs song like stone cold classics ("Heartbreak Hotel"), but lots of hokum too. "Suspicious Minds" always sounds totally fabulous. All of it pretty much undeniable stuff. A short history of a certain America.
