scanning cats
Three or four Sundays ago I had one of my brain/mind/speech things – words not coming out as expected. Some other planet from normal. That state came and left in about 15 minutes and while there’s some anxiety for this kid – not being able to speak anymore – I pretty much shined it on. I’ve been good at shining stuff on about the past 60 years or so.
It was the third time for the brain deal, something like a two-and-a-half years span. The first time in a basement in Portland, OR on the phone with my son Cameron. The second time at a keyboard in California, not a single key paying any attention to me at all. Back there in Oregon an MRI followed, here in San Diego a cat scan. Neither found anything, which may be metaphor-like, think Bodhidharma answering Emperor Wu’s question, “What is the main point of this holy teaching?”, with, “Vast emptiness.” Kinda like the Venus-and-Mars geography of my cranium – vast emptiness.
Following a Sunday afternoon conversation with Ann about sticking around for each other, I reached out to my Doc Monday and have a phone appointment set for next Monday, my wild guess a referral for an MRI to follow.
My friend Joyce in Portland wondered if the first episode was something of a re-set, I guess the way you refresh or re-start some malfunctioning device to magically get it working again. The romantic in me likes that, like I totally enjoyed playing with a rolling-over-the-sidewalk kitty yesterday afternoon waiting for a rather large child who resides somewhere on the spectrum. Me on the sidewalk, engaged in a way more fun cat scan.
Anyway, I made about 43 bucks Tuesday, didn’t spend any except some gas, drank four large wonderful cups of coffee, sat in meditation – hereafter “zazen” – four times, took a fab morning walk with singing birds and blooming flowers, hung at the Malcom X library, phone talked with my sweetie with what felt like the right sweet words, streamed some of The Red Sox, streamed some of NYPD Blue, listened to a crazy great song by The Cowsills called “Is It Any Wonder”, discovered a far out “group” named “Cleaners From Venus”, and did a fair amount of writing.
Fixing a hole where the rain gets in. It’s supposed to rain tomorrow.