I Opened My Heart, it's All Over This Page.
As I listen to Lana Del Rey,
The lights in the Laundromat hum along.
Buzzing like strange bumble bees
To the sultry beats in my headphones.
Flashing with bad intentions
They surreptitiously sting me.
I throb immediately
From the florescent venom.
I bite back tears.
Fuck, do I long for the outdoors.
For open spaces and fresh air.
But, between the howling wind
And icy air
The cold is so fierce
That it forces me indoors.
Like a sad, trapped kitten
I frown slightly and realize
I’m stuck inside.
Here I sit in slight discomfort
So I can be warm.
Isn’t that often how life goes?
We trade one discomfort for another.
Our question is often:
How can I be more comfortable?
What if our question was:
How can I sit with my discomfort?
No, not to torture ourselves.
Just to closely observe how we are
In different conditions.
Could our days be more than just days?
Could they be experiments?
Because we’ve got beakers bubbling,
Bunsen burners lit.
Our lab notebooks are blank
Ready to take notes
On the grandest of all experiments:
Curiosity is key.
If we can have the mind of a mad scientist
And the heart of a child
We can uncover more pieces of ourselves
And find more
Because often enough, we don’t look.
So, let’s look.
Let’s slip into our discomfort,
Like putting on a scratchy old bathrobe,
Where does it rub?
Where does it hurt?
That’s the place to look.