last nights now – I am in a small town north of Charleston, SC in a starbucks. I got the coveted corner comfy chair. It is saturday night and I am in the a place to be, in this town, it would seem. I am grading essays and waiting for eden to finish watching her friend in a pirate version of much ado about nothing. Too far to go home in between, but I am shifting my whole body every few minutes to stay awake. I’ve graded two essays in almost 2 hours. lord. I am slow.
A family with a baby walking by holding on to corners of furniture captures my interest as they share my corner for a while before a man sits down and eats a bag of chips beside me. Peripherally I can see that he is unaware of himself and his movements as he puts the corner of the bag up to his lips and shakes the crumbs into his mouth, hobbitish, his outline, solid and close to the earth. I am grading and distracted yet trying not to be. The place suddenly appears to be clearing out so finally I allow my eyes to rest upon my neighbor in the next chair and focus; everything I have gathered without my direct sight is true of him. He meets my gaze and we discuss whether we are about to be thrown out. It isn’t long before he tells me he is single but thrilled to be a part of the largest mega-church in the country and unzips his hoodie to reveal the name of his mega-church. While I do sense his intentions of kindness with his sharing, I do not pretend; I respond in truth,and I shake my head and say I have no interest in visiting your church. But I smile and wish him a wonderful night and he smiles in return and off I go to sit outside the play, and wait for it to finish and for eden to come out with a full report of a stage too small with scenery too big. Chloe waits at home, tired after a day at the beach with friends. All of this is known, but does not need the mind to be so.
Am I a creation of the light walking around in a body? What could be the point of anything? The still point beckons me away from the outward. There is no thing there. The world makes it easy by not courting me with champagne and lobster tails – the quieting of my mind is where the chocolate mousse and ecstasy beckon. Yesterday is a created myth – stories of a self, true and not true and tomorrow is a dizzying swirl of confetti – my imagined feet dangle beneath me as I hover over an imperceptible void of NOW. What is now? It is not this moment. Now this is something – Presence present.
Life as Improv 