The Unified Field + Making Dumplings (A Day in the Life)
Been getting a lot of requests for a day-in-the-life, so I thought I'd write one for you guys.
I woke up today and immediately got into an argument about Ben Hur. It shook the whole household and left me strongly reconsidering my self-worth, so when I went to work, I watched a few guided meditations.
Naturally, those didn't work. I can't really take an older lady telling me to focus on my breathing seriously. So I looked into Transcendental Meditation, because David Lynch has talked a lot about it in his interviews. I watched a few videos on it, but for all the talk about what it is, there were no videos actually detailing how to do it. You "have to find a teacher of Transcendental Meditation;" you can't learn it online.
Apparently this whole meditation-type started because this guru Maharishi did a world-tour training people to teach TM. You can't learn it from just anyone, or from a video, or from a PDF, because you have to meet with a trained teacher so that he/she/whatever can give you "your own mantra." (For those of you who aren't enlightened, a mantra is a meaningless word or sound that you have to repeat over and over in your meditation as a concrete passageway for you to dive into the subconscious "Unified Field," the "No-Thing Infinite" that births all things, the calm/quiet and deepest part of the mind that is like the ocean floor below the waves of our everyday go-getter thoughts and anxieties.)
As you can imagine, I was pissed to find out that I had to actually find some guy to teach me how to do this shit. So I looked into it online, and apparently there is a single organization that connects TM students with TM teachers in the United States. Not multiple offices or strains or whathaveyou but rather one unified organization. (In the subconscious, there is the Unified Field. In the United States, there is the Unified Organization.)
I looked into setting up a meeting. $980! $980 to get a mantra and four lessons.
Of course I'm not paying $1,000 for some woo shit. But, I would pay a little for some woo shit. So I scoured the internet trying to look for an alternative that costs less. I ultimately found some much lamer-sounding alternative called "Natural Stress Relief" that was created by a former teacher of TM. Supposedly it is exactly the same as TM, except everyone gets the same mantra, you don't have to show up to any lessons, and you can pay just $25 for a PDF from a very outdated and sketchy Italian website. The PDF contains all the lessons for which you would have had to pay almost a thousand dollars. If you are still confused or want your own mantra, you can book a Skype (yes, Skype) meeting with the TM teacher/founder of NSR for $12.
I bought the PDF and let me tell you---whoever wrote it was on more than just TM.
So that was my time at work. I chose to leave early, as I was already very exhausted. I stopped by my apartment to eat some peppers, cheese, strawberries, blueberries, yogurt, and seaweed. Of course I've heard about all the blueberries being recalled for some disease or something, but I refuse to live in fear. If I get explosive diarrhea, at least I'll go out with a bang.
(On a very separate note, I have been paying more attention to bowel movements ever since I read a tweet that there was, supposedly, once a poop specialist, who claimed that the perfect bowel movement should last a mere few seconds, come out without much strain, leave little stench, and leave almost no residue on the anus. He was so bold as to say that he could have a bowel movement at a party, in the corner of the room, while no one was looking, and no one would notice at all except later when having to of course pick up the turd from the floor.)
Anyway, I don't quite remember what I did immediately after that. I probably read some book or something.
Then, when it was time, I left my apartment to meet with an emo chick. I had originally met her back in February, when I was extremely inebriated after a work event, forced into a bar outing after the event due to intoxication, and leaning against the bar, drunkenly writing in the front cover of my copy of Dante's Inferno something along the lines of "I am in hell." The emo chick noticed my book then and, because she apparently researches something about demons, told me that I have good taste. The rest of the conversation was completely lost on me before it had even ended.
Anyway, we exchanged numbers that first time in February, but, because we were both so intoxicated, neither of us remembered to contact the other, so we didn't get to meet until now. Of course I won't go into the details of the interaction, as I, once again, in this, our second meeting, had too much to drink and now fail to recall the details of the interaction beyond the fact that she was an ex-Mormon.
It was about 4:30pm when I left the bar and parted with the emo chick. I realized that I had a rather healthy relationship with alcohol, truly, because I only drink to the point of feeling jovial and just a bit sleepy, and because I only drink with others, and only once in a while. So I walked down Broadway rather happy, a bit stumbly, listening to German polka music, and I started to understand why people become alcoholics. Day drinking is truly special, but only in the summer. I bought some chicken and then went home.
Again I was rather exhausted, so I took a nap. Then I read a bit, wrote a bit, and then I got to the most intellectually challenging part of the day: making dumplings.
Lao Tzu has a wonderful saying: "A mere inch makes or breaks the dumpling." Or maybe it was, "Do not forget the most important ingredient in the dumpling: nothingness." I'm butchering it; I know. But Lao Tzu understands better than anyone why I struggle with the dumpling-making process and why it takes a lot of mental effort for me to perfect the dumpling: I struggle with the Unified Field. The closer you get to that Unified Field of No-Thing, the greater your talent for dumpling.
Well, I can already see my NSR paying off, because those dumplings were fire. I use a specific chili sauce made of garlic, sugar, chili flakes, 5-ingredient Chinese spice, chili oil, sesame or peanut oil, light soy sauce, rice vinegar, and hot water. I must say that my sauce capabilities are greater than my dumpling capabilities. I wonder if that says something about me.
Anyway, I realized that my day was ending much better than it had started, and that, though I really can't stand those older ladies and their guided meditations, they maybe have a point when they say that anxiety leaves when you ground yourself momentarily "in the physical." In ways, the physical can be more transcendent than rational thoughts that pass through our minds.
Then I sat down at my computer and wrote this post.
That was my day. Now it is 12:50am; the next day has started.