In an attempt to make our sleeps more restful and not give away nights to watching all nine episodes of whatever is the newest British/Polish/German/Scandinavian/Australian detective show on TV, my husband AKA The Arm Candy, has downloaded a meditation app. I didn’t know anything about it besides its name until last night…when he played it. I know it came from a good place and intention. Better sleep. Calm on Sunday night to make way for a productive Monday morning. Etc.
Three minutes into the nice man on the phone leading us through what he called a quiet breath routine or restorative centering or some such thing, I found myself longing for the two pairs of snow and winter boots from my life in Idaho that I donated before coming to my current snow-less home. As much as those boots weighed on their own, the grooves on their soles, intended to provide traction against ice and slippage, were for me their most impressive feature. I had never experienced anything like them until the November of 2006, my first winter in the US. That shoes for random pedestrians like me could look and feel so complicated and badass was a new concept. I took to the shoes even though I could never take to the snow and ice.
Last night, the man’s voice and wisdom—slow, patronizing, and painful—made me long for those boots like nothing else ever has. My brain immediately began to feel more calm and rested, as it contemplated how it might feel to chuck said boots at “Dwayne,” over and over again, and tell him to STFP.
I shared my thoughts with The Arm Candy, who assured me that this is exactly why he and I were together. Ultimately, we did what we often do before sleep. Glass of milk, reading for me, crossword puzzles for him. And while I have you here, let me recommend Helen Ellis’ funny and superb essay collection, Southern Lady Code.