Tuesday, August 2, 2011

Easy Chairs and Other Misnomers

Yeah, just sitting back in my Easy Chair, watching this life I call Movie; because it's constantly in motion. Scenes are changing. Characters forgetting lines, ad libbing or just flat out falling off the stage. And then the lights are dimmed, then totally black. The cue that the scene is over and it's intermission.



No aisle lights. No ushers with flashlights. Just blackness. And I stand up and walk around because that's what an intermission is for. Shutting my eyes against any shards of light that might distract my batwalk, I reach out, groping for anything that might impede my journey. Slipping here and there it's obvious I've stepped in someones spillage. Should've been more careful. There's a suction noise now adding to the otherwise silent mystique of my shadowy shape.



I am no longer in the theater but making my way down the halls and through the rooms in the mind of my home. It is empowering to be at ease in my darkness. I can explore and question and bump my head and stub my toe but I feel secure as it engulfs me. Claustrophobia should be erupting but it stays at bay as if it senses there's a boundary that shouldn't be crossed.



Whoops. Crash. Pictures fall from the wall, shattering as they hit the floor. Did I do that or was it destined to happen? Oh! Ow! That's going to be a bruise. Again. Same spot on the wall. Same bump on my head. You'd think I'd learn. You'd think I'd remember. But the inky darkness plays tricks, which is why I close my eyes. I feel safely peaceful here but will I ever feel the exhilaration of conquering my blackness?



I rouse. Realizing I never left my seat. Tell me again, why is this called an Easy Chair? Because there's nothing Easy about sitting in it . . . watching while others hit their head or stub their toe. I could tell them, you know, but then what good would it do?



It really is Easy-er in my chair, I guess.

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