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These feelings are so hard to find.
Jan. 23rd, 2002 09:09 amI just called my doctor's office and hopefully my doctor will just prescribe antibiotics over the phone for me. This will be wonderful. I will be cured (of one thing, at least). I won't have to go to the doctor. I won't have to PAY for going to the doctor. I hope he won't make me come in and see him. Hell, it makes his life easier too, so here's hoping he'll make it happen, like Mariah Carey. ***I just got a phone call. I basically lied and said I had the problem before, since I thought that might help my chances in not coming in to the office. Then I told him my symptoms. He's calling the pharmacy. Woo-hoo!
Last night I had an excellent time at the buddhist meditation class. And I want to marry the monk who ran the class. And I don't neessarily mean that in a sexual way. Though he was really cute. He sort of looked a bit like![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
legalmoose, now that I think about it. But his hair looked more like mine (i.e. a shaved head with a couple weeks growth). But he was really calm and genuine and funny, but in an extremely sweet way. He just seemed really positive and warm, and I was drawn in. Hopefully this isn't a cult, cause otherwise I'd be well on my way to being suckered. Anyway, the classes are every Tuesday for the next couple months, and they included group meditation, a brief lesson related to meditation, and then Q&A. So yeah, I'm looking forward to going every week, and I'm planning on rescheduling my therapy so I don't have them on top of each other.
I remember when I "invented" meditation. I mean, obviously not in the larger sense, but I came up with this great idea on my own and thought no one else knew about it. I had devised this imaginary "rule" for the universe (I commonly had such truth and postulates), which said that closing my eyes while sitting still or lying down and couting 50 long deep breaths was the equivalent of a 30 minute nap. This was probably around the time we got our first microwave, so I was obsessed with the idea of doing things in a fraction of the amount of time. Sure enough, taking 50 deep breaths did relax me and I felt refreshed as if I had napped. I performed this task fairly often, and later realized that I had invented meditation on my own once I started reading some books on "alternative cultures".
My dabbling in the "occult" (in the South, that's anything not christian. probably even some aspects of judaism qualify) started when I was pretty young -- probably 8 or 9. I can thank Sydney Freeman, my "Discovery" teacher in late elementary school for teaching us creative visualization and out-of-body experiences, as well as about the greenhouse effect and recycling, long before the general population knew of these concepts.
Later I remember buying a book at the Everything's A Dollar store (located next to the stacks of remainder copies of Vanna White's autobiography, Vanna Speaks) called The Encyclopedia of Psychic Sciences. There was a chapter on phrenology, palm reading, numerology, astrology, and numerous other sections I probably never read. Around this time I also bought a book at the famous Atlanta used book shop about becoming a ninja. I was convinced that was my future career. I even talked about this for way longer than I should have -- for christmas one year in high school, my friend bought me as a joke a package of corn seeds, because I had talked to her about training to jump by planing corn and jumping over the stalk every day, so that eventually one could easily jump over 7 foot tall corn stalks. My friend was obviously amused by my commitment.
My favorite book used to be Way of the Peaceful Warrior by Dan Millman. I'm embarassed to say that I was introduced to this book because of my obsessive crush on Christian Slater. He mentioned the book in an interview article for YM magazine. I stored it in my head for almost a year before I finally found it in the small Waldenbooks-mimicking bookstore in the same mall as the Everything's A Dollar store. Coincidence? I never really thought of all the life-changing finds from North DeKalb Mall. Anyway, I used to read the book at least twice a year, continuing past my starry-eyed crush on Mr. Slater, and even read the book out of quasi-nostalgia in college.
I haven't seen the book in awhile. But I have a LOT of books, so it's possible it's on my shelf right this moment. It's also possible I loaned it to someone who never returned it. I want to read it again, but I fear I'll hate it which might break my heart.
Last night I had an excellent time at the buddhist meditation class. And I want to marry the monk who ran the class. And I don't neessarily mean that in a sexual way. Though he was really cute. He sort of looked a bit like
legalmoose, now that I think about it. But his hair looked more like mine (i.e. a shaved head with a couple weeks growth). But he was really calm and genuine and funny, but in an extremely sweet way. He just seemed really positive and warm, and I was drawn in. Hopefully this isn't a cult, cause otherwise I'd be well on my way to being suckered. Anyway, the classes are every Tuesday for the next couple months, and they included group meditation, a brief lesson related to meditation, and then Q&A. So yeah, I'm looking forward to going every week, and I'm planning on rescheduling my therapy so I don't have them on top of each other.I remember when I "invented" meditation. I mean, obviously not in the larger sense, but I came up with this great idea on my own and thought no one else knew about it. I had devised this imaginary "rule" for the universe (I commonly had such truth and postulates), which said that closing my eyes while sitting still or lying down and couting 50 long deep breaths was the equivalent of a 30 minute nap. This was probably around the time we got our first microwave, so I was obsessed with the idea of doing things in a fraction of the amount of time. Sure enough, taking 50 deep breaths did relax me and I felt refreshed as if I had napped. I performed this task fairly often, and later realized that I had invented meditation on my own once I started reading some books on "alternative cultures".
My dabbling in the "occult" (in the South, that's anything not christian. probably even some aspects of judaism qualify) started when I was pretty young -- probably 8 or 9. I can thank Sydney Freeman, my "Discovery" teacher in late elementary school for teaching us creative visualization and out-of-body experiences, as well as about the greenhouse effect and recycling, long before the general population knew of these concepts.
Later I remember buying a book at the Everything's A Dollar store (located next to the stacks of remainder copies of Vanna White's autobiography, Vanna Speaks) called The Encyclopedia of Psychic Sciences. There was a chapter on phrenology, palm reading, numerology, astrology, and numerous other sections I probably never read. Around this time I also bought a book at the famous Atlanta used book shop about becoming a ninja. I was convinced that was my future career. I even talked about this for way longer than I should have -- for christmas one year in high school, my friend bought me as a joke a package of corn seeds, because I had talked to her about training to jump by planing corn and jumping over the stalk every day, so that eventually one could easily jump over 7 foot tall corn stalks. My friend was obviously amused by my commitment.
My favorite book used to be Way of the Peaceful Warrior by Dan Millman. I'm embarassed to say that I was introduced to this book because of my obsessive crush on Christian Slater. He mentioned the book in an interview article for YM magazine. I stored it in my head for almost a year before I finally found it in the small Waldenbooks-mimicking bookstore in the same mall as the Everything's A Dollar store. Coincidence? I never really thought of all the life-changing finds from North DeKalb Mall. Anyway, I used to read the book at least twice a year, continuing past my starry-eyed crush on Mr. Slater, and even read the book out of quasi-nostalgia in college.
I haven't seen the book in awhile. But I have a LOT of books, so it's possible it's on my shelf right this moment. It's also possible I loaned it to someone who never returned it. I want to read it again, but I fear I'll hate it which might break my heart.
