Every couple of years, I read a particular kind of book and start to Get Ideas. This year’s book is by the same author as the one last time, which triggered a miniature nervous breakdown by the time I got three quarters of the way through. Not because of the Ideas but because of my personal inability to implement them “properly.” All of this is a fancy-fancy way of saying that I freaked out because I could recognize perfection but not approach it myself.

I don’t know if the current book is more basic, if my level of medication is higher, or if I have grown slightly wiser despite myself in the intervening years, but this time I am able to face the Ideas with more equanimity, which is fitting because the big Idea this time is nonattachment. “This too shall pass” is the motto of that state of mind. There are other mottos but I am so not-attached to them that I have forgotten what they are. The whole point is to make the current moment your friend instead of into an obstacle or a means to an end, which is nice because I could use more friends.

Last night--I think it was last night--Rob and I went to visit with Indiana Jones. It was a fun movie despite my bizarre experience of being able to actually feel the low-grade cold I’ve had since New York suddenly worsen exponentially and sink down into my oft-battered lungs. Just when I was starting to think that every sniffle did not mean automatic pneumonia, I believe I’m well ensconced in that particular handbasket. Despite the fact that this is a particularly busy week, I am actually not that distressed about it, which means that either the mottos or the SSRIs are working. I would like to give the mottos the benefit of the doubt here because the Idea gives me some hope for myself and the human race and the drugs give me sexual side-effects.