"When was the last time you spent ten minutes doing absolutely nothing?" he asked the audience.
And went on to expound for ten minutes himself on the benefits of making time, every day, to do absolutely nothing for ten minutes. He didn't call it meditation. You don't need to empty your mind, or sit in uncomfortable positions on hard floors. All you have to do is "nothing." For ten minutes. How difficult could it be?
I tried it tonight. I lit a candle and turned out the lights (I was going to do this right!) Then I lay down on the couch from which my up-ended supper of a few nights ago had been thoroughly scrubbed, wiggled my tail feathers a bit until I was thoroughly comfortable, and set about Doing Nothing.
I think I'm going to make a habit of it. I lay there in the flickering glow of the candle and thought about the very tasty supper I had just eaten---poached salmon with steamed spinach and Brussel sprouts (I think it was Smitonious who planted that seed in my head!), emphasis on non-inflammatory foods, in a dietary effort to help with the Great Unclenching---because I refused to let the bone crunching chiropractor within an ass's roar of my bones again. He had his chances, two of them, and no improvement.
Not even the merest whisper of butter was used in the cooking of fish and veggies both. I felt downright virtuous! Of course, if the menfolk were here they'd look askance at steamed spinach and would run a mile to get away from the sprouts. There are some benefits to being alone a lot of the time!
I watched the flame jumping in the melted wax, throwing crazy shadows on the ceiling and thought about my frustration last night at not being able to watch Downtown Abbey.
"Lady Mary!" said Pat as I left work last week. "Don't forget to watch Lady Mary on Sunday evening!" Through the trials of The Clenching, and The Supper Dumping, I clung to the light at the end of the weekend---Downtown Abbey" on Sunday night. I live a simple life. But it was not to be.
I hardly ever watch television when I'm here alone. There is quite enough entertainment going on in my head at any given time. But on the rare occasions when I do want to watch something, it's not unusual for me to run into problems. I have been agitating for years for a return to simplicity. An "on" button to turn the blasted thing on, and an "off" button to return to peace and quiet. I have never quite mastered the intricacies of the five hundred remote controls that litter the coffee table. I pressed various buttons with no success. I called the Bean on the phone and he did his best to maneuver me through the necessary steps, assuring me it was easy, I'd done it hundreds of times before, and holding his head in his hands, I'm sure, at my tales of which buttons I'd pushed. I felt sure that I'd pushed enough buttons to have been teleported to the kitchen of Downton, but no. That's not apparently how it works.
Disgusted, I gave up. Anyone who fills me in on what was said to whom, by whom, particularly any exchanges between Lady Grantham and the moneyed American visitor, will have my eternal gratitude. Meanwhile, my world did not come crashing down......
I was getting sleepy....Such a comfy couch. And then I was back in the tiny town near the border with Northern Ireland, and shyly walking in to the staff room at the Vocational school where I'd been hired as a P.E. teacher. Being given appraising looks by one sexy siren of a teacher who saw all new females as competition.....And then me and Miriam were walking back up the hill to our new digs with the widow lady who was to become like a mother to us, and us like daughters to her.....
And then my eyes flickered open and I wondered where I was....The candle had burnt down quite a ways. It had been a very relaxing ten (wink, wink!) minutes of Doing Nothing. Definitely recommended for stress relief. I think I'll do it again tomorrow!