Monday, February 22, 2016

I Won't Be Late Again

“The vanity of success invites its own failure.”—Lao-Tzu

“Consider where you are at this very moment. Think about it, and hold that thought.”

His lips are upturned, his eyes wide and unfocused. He may have smoked or ingested something earlier, possibly even both.

So yeah, I'm here in a room with this guy and a bunch of other people. If they passed around the good stuff, it never made it to me. But I'm thinking about it, like he said, in case there's a quiz later.

“See yourself there.”

His voice is soft, almost ethereal. He could be a smooth jazz deejay, taking us all on a trip to some inane place filled with grating alto saxophones. He could be taking us straight to hell, but we're not there yet, so I'm seeing myself in this room with him and the others.

“Now imagine yourself floating from that place.”

We paid money for this. It's not much of a show, but people seem to love it. Younger woman to my right is lost in the guy's words, eyes glazed over like fresh donuts. Same with the other man to my left, though his donuts are a few days old.

Okay, we're floating. And maybe there's a point to it all. Or maybe I missed the good stuff when they passed it around earlier. Then the point would be to arrive on time. We're supposed to be learning here, learning important lessons about ourselves.

And if you think about it, showing up late and missing the good stuff isn't the worst way to learn that particular lesson. I mean, I'll be on time next time.

“Floating, floating...”

His voice slips into the clouds he imagines us visiting, or the planets, or whatever. I won't be late again.

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