Of Panic and Cuteness

“When time is reduced to linear progress, it is emptied of presence.” ~ John O’Donohue

“There’s been time this whole time. You can’t kill time with your heart. Everything takes time.” ~ David Foster Wallace

“And yet it takes only the smallest pleasure or pain to teach us time’s malleability.” ~Julian Barnes

“The advantage of living is not measured by length, but by use; some men have lived long, and lived little; attend to it while you are in it. It lies in your will, not in the number of years, for you to have lived enough.” ~ Michel de Montaigne

A rather enjoyable perusal of political panel discussions has come to an end. It is so easy to sit back and listen to these people who . . . what is it they call them? Pundits? Talking heads? Not that it matters. They have kept me entertained this morning; except for there being not a sign of Natasha Bertrand, from The Atlantic. The magazine, not the ocean. She pleases me in many ways, intelligence being one of the more prominent ways. Freshness in expression, another way. Plus, she is such a cutie! No, I am not being sexist here. In my view, a man can be a cutie as well. I have been, on and off throughout my life, called cute. I’ve learned to tolerate it, and since I’d rather be cute on my own terms, I’ve learned to accept that one . . . where the heck was I going with that. I don’t feel so cute at the moment, k? But back to Natasha. She is but a child of 26. A child? Yup. I realized one day, while watching a video panel discussion, that 26 is really really young, and upon that realization I got all “and just how the fuck old am I?”. There is no answer to that question, as far as I can tell. Of course. What’s the Hallmark aphorism? Yeh, yeh, yeh . . . you are only as young as you feel. I feel pretty good today. But young? Well, yes and no. Yeesh, my mind wants to go into an examination of time. No thanks, not today. I’m all mellowed out from an excellent massage and a productive psychotherapy session yesterday. In the latter we fell into some scrutiny of my PTSD, and how I can be triggered by someone coming up behind me unannounced, and the resultant panic attack will make my next 48 hours hell. But what we came to notice from our dialog was that sometimes such an unannounced intrusion does not trigger me at all. Come to realize that this can be explained through how we’uns sense electromagnetic fields, whether we like it or not. The bottom line is that if someone has jagged personal energy they will get my cortisol pumping. If their energy is balanced and confident, the harmonics within my own energy detects no intrusion at all. It’s a question of balance. Don’t test me on this. I had such a test a few weeks back, by someone who had obviously been told about my troubles with surprises of that nature, and they wanted to see if it was true. And what I realized at the moment of the test was that people who would do such a thing likely would not take a swing at my head with a bat to see if my head was attached. There is not that much difference between the two types of attacks. I kept my reaction, the panic, contained, and luckily the resulting anxiety was not severe. I wanted to turn around and friggin roar in their face. I contained it, and I could not manage a smile within my shaking and quaking muscles. In the immortal words of Taylor Swift, “Why ya gotta be so mean?”. Yeh, what she said.

Peace out, y’all. Goof gloriously.

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