This and other questions to be pondered -- if not sufficiently answered -- during my upcoming performances at the Marsh Theater.
Some excerpts from my show notes:
The guided meditation sounds like porn:
I feel you above me
Fill me with your light
Your light uplifts me
Your power comes in me and through me
I am a channel for your light and love ...
Oh yeah, Boy-EE!
Then he hugs me. His arms are friendly and meaningless. Stand up and show me that I can trust you. Don’t hold my hand while driving in a rainstorm. Use your fucking ten o’clock and two o’clock so you don’t get us killed.
The supposedly simple stuff so often eludes me. Peace? I can’t even do the dishes without a miniature breakdown.
What does training your brain feel like? Is it like sprinting on the treadmill at the gym or spinning the hamster wheel?
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