Alphabet Thursday: Join in Jenny Matlock’s B hop!
She wanted to draw a blank. A total blank. To pull down a blank white shade on her thoughts, those annoying ruminative cuticle-biting ones.
Actually, she longed for a blank white refrigerator door, if she could just free hers of magnets; scribbled phone numbers; almost-blank boys’ chore page; faded photo clutter (as much as she cherished the old preschool tongue-depressor frames):
A mind blanked of those worries. How was it that an cognitive, reasonable human being could be so unreasonable when it came to worrying? One such being who knew such worrying was unproductive, but still insisted on stumbling down densely tangled winding worrying paths leading nowhere?
So she would meditate. Or try to. The focus on breathing one. The mantra one – “blank, blank, blank,” until she had a migraine from the mindless blank repetition. And with all that focus on blankness, on nonthinking, she was overcome by her senses: the stink of the raw meat from the dog’s soggy bone. And the sounds. Just past the dog’s bone-gnawing was the gerbil’s incessant chewing. Who can stop worrying when toilet paper rolls are being ravaged to tissuey bits?