Wednesday, December 31, 2014

interlude



A Look into My Chitta

Over the past couple years I have gotten interested in yoga. My initial interest was for health
reasons but I think it can be beneficial for anyone regardless of age or health condition. One
day, after a particularly intense yoga class (which sounds like an oxymoron to non-yoga folk) I
decided to stop over at a breakfast place close to the yoga studio. I had brought a backpack
with me that had a book and some manuscript paper in it.

I went into the place, kind of a diner vibe, and was seated by a very sweet older woman. When
I was seated a waitress came and filled my coffee cup. I got out my book and started reading. I
must have gotten sucked in because the waitress came back and asked if I was ready to order.
I hadn’t taken a look at the menu yet so she topped off my coffee cup and left. After a quick
glance at the menu I chose what I was going to order. When the waitress returned I placed my
order and she topped off my coffee cup. I relaxed back into my booth and started reading
again. I was feeling very at peace.

After about 15 minutes the waitress returned with my order and warmed up my coffee again. I
ate my breakfast. When I was finished I checked my cell phone for the time. I had a half hour to
kill before an appointment nearby so I pulled out the manuscript paper and began to think. I
wanted to write one new tune for the upcoming record but no ideas were really coming to me.
The waitress returned to get my plate, topped off my coffee, left my check and headed back to
the kitchen.

By now I was starting to feel the effects of the coffee. I stared at the manuscript paper. As
caffeine is known to do it was starting to make my eyes dart back and forth and it made tracking
the five little black lines on the paper difficult. I was still feeling the after glow of the yoga class
and I was in a state of inner peace but my body was definitely not at peace at all. I’m not sure
how much coffee I drank but I was starting the sweat and my feet were shuffling.

Suddenly the humor in the strange juxtaposition of those two feelings hit me all at once. I had a
deep sense of inner peace but was very caffeinated. I laughed out loud. Fueled by prana and
caffeine I put pencil to paper. In about 15 minutes I had it. The piece I was hoping for. Caffeinated Om.







This short and essay are also in the most recent issue of The Chicago Progressive

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