Zen Commando

Vesper wrote (In "Hallways Without Walls") about how structure gets to her. I can relate to that. Even knowing that I have to be somewhere at a particular time oppresses me in an odd way. It's not like I don't value obligations to people -- it's just that, increasingly, if I have to be someplace at a particular time, it hangs over my head until the event occurs.

For me, anticipation is the killer, versus the actual execution of whatever task is at hand. Like the Buzzcocks show I'm going to see tonight -- I'm looking forward to it in spirit, but right now I'm all oppressed: "Gotta be at Double Door around 10 tonight." That obligation gets to me, and I won't enjoy myself until I'm actually there. You know? That happens to me all the time, like if I've been invited to a party or the equivalent -- until I'm actually there, the anticipation of it causes this odd dread in me.

I have that with flying, too -- I've been phobic about air travel since, I dunno, 1998. But the phobia is keenest for me before I'm actually on a plane. When I'm on the plane, I figure "Oh, well. Whatever happens, happens." -- I may not enjoy it, but I can deal with it. But nights before the flight, I'll bolt up in bed in cold sweat, having had a nightmare about flying, etc.

For me, it's really a control issue. Helplessness gets to me. I'd much rather jump over the wall than think about jumping over the wall. I'm kind of a Zen commando that way.

And I think schedules and structure impede that quality in me, and it oppresses me. I'm very much a live in the moment type of person -- the moment matters most to me (heh -- alliteration, anyone?)

It's going to be monstrously hot in the city this weekend. Heat indexes and ozone action days (e.g., smog alerts). Supposedly 100 - 105 degrees Fahrenheit, when the humidity is factored into the mix. Loverly. I just hope we don't have any brownouts or blackouts. If that happens, I'll just go to the lakeshore -- there's always a 15 to 20-foot strip that's cool there, because the lake is always cold.

I remember doing that in 1995, during the deadly heatwave that killed something like 500 to 700 people in the city (and got woefully underreported at the time -- glad somebody wrote a book about it. Anyway, the city was deadly-hot, and everybody went to the lakeshore, this huge, almost Biblical-looking throng of people, all along the lakeshore, taking dips in the water, hanging out on the rocks (when the rocks were still there -- the city is very foolishly replacing the wonderful tumbledown limestone boulders with lackluster, unfriendly concrete -- it sucks!!)

Anyway, at the time, I lived in a third-floor walkup (no AC) and had long hair, and it was really nasty. Everything I touched was hotter than me. I took ziploc bags and filled them with ice, laid them on the tiled floor of the bathroom for my cats -- they didn't need any persuading, lounged beside the bags of ice. Then I went to the lakeshore, along with everybody else who lacked AC.

It was kind of a party at the shore -- endless numbers of sweaty, tired people. A good time, despite the misery of the day.