Towel

I’m floating in the pool trying not to think about the allegory of what just unfolded before my eyes: a resort employee, young African American guy, ripped through the calm waves of the Atlantic shore on a super fast jet ski. An inflatable “rickshaw” carrying a couple of bored Caucasian tourists lagged behind, tied up to the machine by a flimsy cord.

“A sweet ride like that probably costs about forty bucks”, I deduce. “It covers the gas and the time but does it cover the damage?”

I’m forcing my mind to relax again. “Don’t try to relax and just relax…”, I can almost hear my inner voice. It sounds a little bit like Yoda and a little bit like Morpheus. It makes me chuckle.

Relaxing involves not worrying. Not worrying requires forgetting about the past and the future. Advanced form of myopia is required to stay in the moment and enjoy it. People call it “mindfulness”. Others call it “just another corporate trap devised to keep us in line”. 

The water is warm. I move my hands slowly under its surface. I feel it run between my fingers. That’s mindfulness, right there!

I forget about Australia having just burned down.

Amazonian forests burned down earlier in the year but it’s old news now and the media don’t report it. California burns every year, so nobody cares. Only breaking news will improve the ratings. 

I think about frogs for some reason. All frogs are masters of mindfulness. They enjoy the present moment while the water in the pot is still fine. When it’s not, they will be too dead to tell.

The thought of being boiled alive in a pot of water of gradually increasing temperature makes me get out of the pool in a hurry.

Shit! I forgot to bring my towel!