The sound of our voices made us forget everything That had ever hurt our feelings

Sometimes when I am walking on stairs I make the mistake of thinking about what my legs are actually doing, thinking about how the steps work, and when I do that I suddenly find myself in fear of stumbling, forgetting how to navigate stairs, forgetting how I do that so often without thinking about it at all.  And then I have to stop and think for a second, picture myself finishing the flight of stairs without falling, and then force myself not to think about it anymore, trust my legs to do what they do without my telling them, and let my mind get out of its own way.

(Sometimes I have the same feeling when I think about breathing.  When I think about what it feels like to draw a breath, to hold it and to let it go, sometimes then I think I might easily suffocate or hyperventilate because I can take control of my own breathing and that means I can do it wrong.  I only do it right when I forget about it.)  A student in my class says Inhale, Outhale, aloud to herself when she struggles with stage fright and this always makes me laugh. 

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Turns out I was wrong when I looked into the future and predicted a rejection from Dr. Brilliant.  This is surprising, truly surprising, given how poorly I felt the interview went, in particular the part where I did an impression that was totally inappropriate and not at all funny (for crying out loud, who does impressions in an interview?).  But today Dr. Brilliant phoned me and said he wanted to work with me.  So now I am scared which is a far more active feeling than is feeling rejected.

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When I think about your lawn I can almost see it.  I probably project mine onto yours, overlay the pictures in my mind, a collage of faces and warm June sunshine.  It's good.  I wonder if disassociation is the same as rewriting history to make oneself easier with the role one played.  Sometimes I want to correct other people's version of the past but then I wonder if I have any reason to assume mine is the one that is most accurate.

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Our financial planner put down Shawn's middle name as (None) on the initial set of forms.  Now we occasionally receive mail from his office addressed to Shawn None.  The recent Spawn-mail was followed by some mail for Shawn None.  This kind of thing is so much fun, and my overeager iPhone auto-correct made a hilarious and pornographic suggestion when I was texting this news to Shawn, one which he wanted to hold me to.  (Why does iPhone have such an extensive sexual vocabulary?)  I love words.  If I was a word I would be lugubrious, not because I am lugubrious but because I like the way it tastes on my tongue.  What word would you be?

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