loony bin

11/17/2023 0 By BuddyCushman

Unlike most mornings, I did not read a single word with my two cups of coffee today. I sat there, leaned back in the lop-sided recliner, and just sat there. Through both cups of coffee. You know, I’m not sure why – Dogen would say today is not yesterday (or any other day). Rituals. Routines. Habits. Lifestyle. Stuckness. This morning.

My mind did not need the stimulation of words out of a book to rocket off to wild and ancient and pretty loopy places, though. Most of which I cannot talk about, for one sacred reason or another. But, the thought came that what if this entire time of this life of mine so far, racing up on 75 years strolling the planet, I’ve been confined to a loony bin. That exactly, not a hospital or treatment or mental health facility, private or public institution like, say, Danvers State Hospital on that hill just off Route One north of Boston. And not out-patient, that’s for sure. A loony bin.

Anyway, this is just me this morning. Ann was singing along with Springsteen’s “Girls In Their Summer Clothes” while doing yoga. I was singing to myself The Rascals “A Ray of Hope” – “Most people got soul if they want to try.” Which I totally dig. The trying part. Just sitting in the recliner.

Who needs books, right? See what I mean?