Friday, April 01, 2016

Trying to be Zen

Note the word "trying".

Zen, in my definition, is the attainment of enlightenment where the bullshit doesn't touch you.  I don't think Webster said that EXACTLY, but I'm paraphrasing.

I endeavor to be Zen.
But I find it incredibly difficult to try to embrace the peace and light while I have an hour to an hour and twenty minute commute every morning and late afternoon/early evening.
And thank you SO much, Oklahoma DOT or DPS or whoever the hell decided to resurface pieces of the highway I take to work and home one mile at a time stretching out over three months.
Kudos, you asshats.

But my issue does NOT lie with them.  (Totally random:  They are using like these flame thrower things on the concrete.  It is uber awesome.)
My issue lies with all the sorry ass hayseed mofos out there who do not use turn signals at all, who slam on brakes, and who think that speed limits are mere suggestions.
I loathe your being.

I work to bring a peace to myself in the morning when I arrive at the day job.  That lasts until a few certain people act like Godzilla to my mental township leaving anger and destruction in their wake.

I try to recenter myself in the afternoon, about halfway through my day, so that I may try to find some semblance of calmness in this hectic world.

It's hard.
And I don't mean "putting pantyhose" on hard.  I mean "the world spits on you" hard.

It seems like this world likes to smack us about and snicker.  And sometimes it's all I can do not to throw up my hands and scream "FUCK IT" as loud as I possibly can.
Now you know why I used the word "trying".

But I don't.

I take a deep breath.  I blow it out.  I think of my kids.  Or my grandson.  My Honey.  My writing.  I think of all the good that I have, and I realize that while I may never reach that Zen status, I'm not quite ready to yell "fuck it" quite yet.

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