A new move

Arbitrarily, it seems, I've decided that today is The Day. The Big Day. Arbitrary because when I sit down at my desk and look at the array of photos surrounding me, the little trinkets, the silver key chain dog, the Kuan Yin, the half-drunk bottle of Acqua Panna, the well-thumbed Viva Terra catalog (perused mindlessly while waiting for something else to Happen), the sunglasses, the old prescription for anti-depressants (it's been a month now, I think!), the ticket stub for Margot at the Weddin (sic), my role of flowered stamps, my picture of Ned in his new Brooks Brothers blazer, standing outside an old building at Bates College and smiling at me, the caricature of Honor, sparkling, at a Bar Mitzvah, my rolled up iPod, the soggy candle -- all of these seem familiar and yet not. I've spent two days trying to explain to people who either didn't understand, or through no fault of their own because I am the worst at describing things, found it hard to follow my gist, that this kundalini yoga really does a number on me. My whole outlook has changed. The way in which I view the world is now tainted by some Otherness and I'm not entirely sure what it is. It's both a little scary and a little exciting. Exhilirating, yes, but also there's an element of foreboding, like a good book I suppose.