Reverie

I rest my mind. I bring it to stillness. I let thoughts and worries pass by. I watch them as they march through my mind. I let emotions, words, phrases, images, and memories come and go without judgement. I don't fight them. I tried fighting a memory once. I got a black eye. Memories can fight. They fight hard. They don't give up. They want you to live in the past. They want you to remember that time you were face down in the public bathroom looking for the number of that girl you met in the bar but dropped somewhere in here. It was written on a piece of paper and you dropped it, somewhere around here. Goddamnit. This was the girl you were going to marry. Then a guy walks into the stall. He steals your wallet. And your phone and keys. And he wants your pants too. So you have to walk home in your boxers across the bridge and bang on the front door until your roommates let you in. And instead of sympathy they film you and put it on the Internet. Your boss calls you. He's seen the video. You're fired, he says. It doesn't have anything to do with the video, it's just that you're not good at your job. It's easy to let memories like these consume you. Instead I let them go by. I let my mind achieve restfulness.