Semi-floating in the small, but cozy, sun-warmed pool, Jess drifted into a deeply meditative state.
Random images flooded his brain like spring rain.
First, rabbits crisscrossed in slow motion, replaced by a stream of very shiny, very slow cars.
"Focus" he thought quietly.
The cute Yorkie from next door sashayed into view, sat before him, and gradually turned into a giant glowing pile of dog biscuits.
Eventually, after reminding himself several times to empty his mind of all thoughts, all this was replaced by a vision of the tree of life.
He saw himself sniffing all around the tree, and had just begun to lift his leg, when a voice from beyond screamed, "Jess! BAD dog! Get out of my spinach rinsing bin!"
Thanks, Melody, but I'm feeling a bit guilty about projecting memories of my first experience with transcendental meditation on this poor pooch!
While I did NOT sniff, let alone think about lifting my leg anywhere near the Tree of Life, the only altered state I managed to achieve forty some years ago was a nice nap during which I irritated everyone else in the little group by snoring.
Gardening provides transcendence enough for me!
What's weird is that I can imagine all sorts of strange scenes as well as internal or external dialogue fairly well, but can't remember regular jokes to save my life. If I remember the joke, I forget the punch line and visa versa.
How very cool!
Ah, I've always wanted a twin! Instead, I was the youngest and the only girl. )0:
My dad used to tell the most outrageous "lies", elaborating until they reached the point of total absurdity. Didn't realize at the time that he was training me to respond like one of Pavlov's pups to the DG Funnies!