What is consciousness, really?

not-the-thinkerI am here, waiting for the cable man to fix my internet. It’s been down since yesterday afternoon.

It is hard to remember what we did with our lives before the internet… for me it’s been 18 years. It is hard to figure out what I can do that does not involve the internet… Finally I settle on writing, editing, and such.

It’s 11:30 am. The repairman was scheduled to be here at 11. I am sitting here, uncharacteristically anxious, contemplating that the man won’t even show up, that he will lie, that I will have to be another day without the ability to work.

It’s excruciatingly painful. I am diligently making room for the bad feelings, including them, breathing normally. Then I have a suspicion: is this mine? I normally don’t get anxious: I take life as it comes.

Turns out I tuned into the repairman: it’s his anxiety. Hm.
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