This morning in the bath I was castigating myself (ooh, sounds painful) for not having anything useful to say, and compounding the problem by filling my ears with a constant stream of podcasts from Garrison Keillor intoning poetry to Russell Brand giggling about having faces drawn on his naughty bits.
I toyed with the idea of taking 20 minutes out of my day to sit in a lotus position and say "ohm," but considering my past attempts at clearing my mind of all thoughts, I dropped that like a hot Buddha.
Baby steps. Just leave some space for thought between Fresh Air and the Scottish comedy bits. But where to start?
By this time, I was backing out of the driveway with KNRK blasting out of the speakers. (Drew must have driven last. He always turns it up too loud. Old man hearing issues, I think.) A perfect moment to live the dream.
I turned the car radio off.
No, really. No radio. No iPod. No CD. Just the hum of the little Prius.
I have to say, I didn't miss it, but my commute is barely twenty minutes long. Unfortunately and despite my courageous pilgrimage, I still have no powerful deep thoughts to share either. And, And, AND, I had no radio dial to fiddle with while the cardboard beggers were staring at me at the I-5/Mill Plain traffic light. So I was forced to pretend a fascination with passing vehicles that seemed not a little feeble-minded.
But I'm not afraid to try it again. Just not on the way home.
Stay tuned for updates just as fascinating as this one.