Tuesday, August 14, 2007

A Letter from Augusta



Siddhartha learned to wait. Though I question how hard that is once you are mindful of the present and dispense of the past and future.

Waiting for Augusta was another matter. What should you do when you wait? Pace, sleep, dream, or meditate?

Dusty decided that she’d try all four, and then start rotating between then.

Pacing was a little bit precarious, since half of her bunnies were now back on their feet, so to speak. She had to walk very softly so as to not squish any of the bunnies. She remembered the Alexander class she took many years ago with Softy where they learned to be (almost) weightless. The bunnies appreciated how Dusty’s feet would just barely graze their backs.

Sleep has its own problems. We never look very good when we first wake up, so she didn’t want to be asleep when he knocked on the door. And besides, she didn’t like to jump out of bed upon awakening because she might hurt her fair hairy friends.

Dreaming is not a bad strategy for passing the time, especially dreaming while awake. The problem with dreaming is that it can raise one’s anxiety level because our mind races at such a crazy pace with all kinds of thoughts seemingly randomly interjecting themselves into every nook and cranny of our brain.

Meditation is good unless one goes too far and loses any connection with either their self or the world. Then it is like sliding down a muddy hill and having nothing to grab on to.

One by one Dusty cycled through these strategies, perking her ear up with every creak she heard in her house, hoping that it’d be Augusta’s boots walking up her driveway.

Pacing, sleeping, dreaming, and then meditating . . . and then starting all over. Day would turn to night, and night would turn to morning. Before long, days had passed and she wondered if Augusta even got her letter, so she walked down to the mailbox and discovered that not only had the postman picked up her letter to send to Augusta, but that she had received a letter back.

It must have been doused with Augusta’s aftershave lotion because she knew it from him as soon as she opened the mailbox. Her heart started racing. What was in the letter?