For many years, people have been urging me to relax; I always replied that I’d relax when I was dead, or something to that general effect. But then I came to Seattle, and under the influence of some if the best, most loving women I’ve ever known, and over the past year and a half I’ve slowly, gradually come to accept that relaxation really is OK. I’ve learned to set aside large blocks of time for just doing things that are fun and help me shed stress, such as getting high, reading for pleasure and my regular Sunday night Doctor Who binge with Lorelei Rivers. And the practice seems to be therapeutic; though a number of things have gone very, irritatingly wrong in my traveling this week, I’ve simply taken it all in stride rather than having my usual conniption. Now, I don’t think this is the beginning of some new general imperturbability, but even the occasional episode of calm in the face of chaos would be an improvement over my usual reaction to disruptions in my plans. So here’s to relaxation; may Aphrodite grant I learn to do it myself as well as I promote it in others.
Learning To Relax
April 21, 2017 by Maggie McNeill
Posted in Diary, Philosophy | Tagged drugs | 2 Comments
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