Seriously, people. I am three wavering steps from pitching head first into crazy. I don't know why. I don't have polio. I don't have a child who has polio. I'm not working 85 hours a week. I am just totally and completely overwhelmed - with existence, apparently. So I'm trying to return to my hippie roots. (Oh, the roots are hippie. I was almost named Sunshine. We had a dog named Freedom. Family activity when I was a wee thing often included meditation.) I rebelled and hurled my Birkenstocks out the window sometime in my teens but now that I'm on the narrow edge of crazy, I'm wondering if this yoga/meditation/mantra thing is worth revisiting.

But since one can't change one's capitalistic colors over night, I'm thinking I really need this to do the job right. Yes, folks, a $78 pillow is my ticket back to sanity.


Maybe I should just embrace the crazy. Or, you know, use a couch cushion.

Labels: whimsy