Saturday, April 13, 2013

Normal things made dirty

"Can I have some almond milk?"
"Of course. You can have as much of my nut milk as you want. Straight from the tap"

Monday, April 8, 2013

From Fullness Fullness Comes Out

I just had a tremendously long poop. It was fascinating, realizing how much poop can be inside of you.

Just a friendly reminder: most people, yourself included, are actually full of shit.


Two days ago when I went to shower at my aunts, I found a spider there, chilling in the tub of the shower. One of those common garden spiders that's got a lighter brown pattern strip down it's middle that people always worry if it's a violin shape and thus a brown recluse (it's not.)

I used to be terrified of spiders. I would see them everywhere. Like that kid from the sixth sense. Like Peter Parker. I had a spidy sense too. Only it was more literal. I would come into a room and immediately start scanning corners, under tables, and a list of other places, checking for spiders. I found spiders where no one else thought there were any. I was like a bodyguard securing the area. If I found one, I would break into a cold sweat. I would edge away from wherever it was, as far as I could get without backing into another spider. I wouldn't be able to concentrate on anything else until it had either been killed or removed from the premises. And if it ran away before it was removed, I would be on even  higher alert, eyes constantly darting from danger zone to danger zone, ready for attack.

I couldn't kill them myself either. The feel of them squishing beneath a tissue or the sight of them curled up was frightening in itself. Mainly I made my mom do it. She tired to get them out safely, but sometimes, like when they were behind my bed, she knew she had to kill them, because if they dropped and got a way, I wouldn't be able to sleep in my bed without pulling the covers over me to the point where they nearly smothered me and staying awake for hours, violently twitching and spasming whenever I felt the tickle of a leg hair moving, afraid it was the spider come back for blood.

Though I wasn't always afraid of spiders. When I was really young, I would pick up spiders and scare my babysitters with them. Though I did have a healthy fear of the enormous wolf spiders that were semi regular appearances around he outside of the house, under the porch and in the garage. Those things are bigger than gerbils and to a little kid they look about as big as god. So when I got locked in the crawlspace with some dried up husks of the behemoth spiders to remind me who I was being forced to share the space with, hiding somewhere in the shadows, it made me uncomfortable.

I wasn't technically locked in the crawlspace. I could have gotten out at any point. But on the door of the crawlspace was a black, big butted web spider that I thought might be a black widow. So I called out for someone, parent or sibling, to help me. And called. And called.

Apparently we had good floor insulation, because I was screaming and crying for probably a good 45 minutes before anyone came to get me. That's a really long time when your little. Triply so when your frightened for your bodily fluids being devoured like cherry Slurpy by dog sized hell spiders.

I eventually got out, but not without scars of the psychic variety. However, I guess one time wasn't enough, because I did the same procedure at least two other times, before realizing it was a bad idea. (I think the last time, I actually was doing it to try and show myself there was nothing to be afraid of. Backfire.

This is all just to say, I was afraid of spiders for most of my childhood life, growing into physical maturity (I'm still growing into emotional maturity.)

The fact that I eventually mostly got over that fear is testament to the power of the meditation I did, and perhaps the other processes I engaged in for self growth. I don't know of any better encouragement or advertisement for picking up a good meditation. It won't make everything in your life perfect, but it will improve things, seemingly at random, that nothing else has been able to touch.

So, the story today: I stepped into the shower, noticing the spider. "Hey bud, I think your gonna want to get out of here. It's about to get a bit hairy for someone like you." no response. "OK, I warned you." Turn on the shower, trying to aim it away from the spider. Spider moves, seemingly at random, more into the shower. then tries to move away, but ends up moving into a big puddle and held their by surface tension. "I warned you." I feel sorry for the bedraggled spider and gently pick it up with a brush and deposit it on the shower mat to dry.

After the shower, I inspect it. the brush I used has hair in it which is tangled around the spider a bit. I know he's not gonna want me messing with him even if it is to free him from his hairy prison, so I leave him to dry and rest. When I come back later that day, he is on the other side of the bathroom, and I am happy he looks to be alright. Next time I check, he's gone.

Today I wake up, check my cell phone (in my awkward blind manipulations I had knocked it onto the ground so it fell on it's edge onto a bookshelf) for cracks, because I had a dream that I wasn't sure was a dream, where I checked my cell phone, twice and it's screen was cracked. (one of the most mundane dreams I've had. Mainly memorable because it's one of those dreams where you really want to do something but you are too tired to actually wake up and do it so your brain dreams you doing it and tells you it's real, so you'll shut up and go back to sleep.)

Then, I sat up, and....
the spider falls off my head.
I take a moment to appreciate both the silliness of the situation, and the fact that I am totally calm and slightly amused, rather than across the room, shuddering uncontrollably  in a sweat, with nightmare fodder for the next week. I tell the spider that I'm going to take it outside, because I can't guarantee it's safety in here. I tell it to get on a piece of paper, and stay put till I get it outside.

This time, it listens.