Here is the third installment of Bathroom, the sunday story.
Okay, let’s take stock. I’m not at home. But let’s not panic. There’s no reason to lock myself in a cupboard and recite:
“I must not fear.
Fear is the mind-killer.
Fear is the little-death that brings total obliteration.
I will face my fear.
I will permit it to pass over me and through me.
And when it has gone past I will turn the inner eye to see its path.
Where the fear has gone there will be nothing.
Only I will remain.”
No, must not let fear interfere. Got to see this in a positive way and try and figure out what is happening here. Above all, I’ve got to put on a happy face.
How about if I saw this in another way: I am not where I thought I was, where I am supposed to be; what is more, I don’t know where I actually am. In other words, I am lost. So far so good – after a fashion. Okay, what do I do when I lose something? Retrace my steps; so let’s do that.
So what did I do before I came here? I got up and went to start the coffee. Was there anything different? I was on autopilot, so it’s hard to say. Then again, if anything had been different or out of place in any way, I probably would have noticed; it would have put a wrench in the machinery of my morning ritual. No, up to the moment I stepped in here, everything was then same. What about before I went to bed? Could I have somehow changed something? So I think about the night before.
Interesting. Nights tend not to be that foggy with me. That’s more of a morning thing.
So what did happen last night?
To be continued (here).
