The Ragtag Daily Prompt is latibule: a place where you feel safe and cosy. I was going to say my house, but I wrote this poem near the end of my stay in Italy. My latibule is my mind. The poem is named Guide.
Guide
I want to write a travel guide
To the interior
No matter where I am
nor who I am with
nor what the circumstance
Ok, in a disaster or crisis I act
I don’t withdraw
But barring that
What does your space look like inside?
My interior is a garden
And an ocean
And the universe
Monsters, angels, demons, daemons
Friends
Many dead
People remembered and loved
Even if they don’t love me
Even if there is no reconciliation
Flowers birds insects science sex philosophy
A universe of stars and math
Tiny atoms, shy electrons circle protons
Whirl happily at the atomic level
Nebulae and black holes
Other worlds and beings
Of course there are other beings
In this wide universe
I am riding on a train in Italy
And traveling my vast interior
At the same time.
Written September 10, 2023. The photograph is from a friend’s doll house.
KO Rural Mad As Hell Blog 
“My latibule is my mind.” I think that is very cool. How do you quiet it enough from thoughts and worries and ffffears? I don’t seem able to do that.
I fell in with a zen buddhist group in college. I thought there was no way I could meditate because I am very high energy and fidget. However, I am also a singer and a flute player, so breath is important. I meditated for 40 minutes facing a wall daily for 3 years, and I can still calm with the breathing. I don’t need a wall any more, I just slow my breathing in for a count of four, out for a count of four or more, it’s really boring and I am out. Also, I don’t calm it. When it’s really fussing, I find that it’s best to go TOWARDS the fussing rather than avoiding. So I do full on full throttle Nike Just Do It worrying or fussing. Try that: the brain gets bored fairly quickly. “Ok, yeah, we’ve worried about that, can we think about lunch instead?” Though if there is an emotional backlog, it can take some work (and I definitely wanted help) to clear it out. Emptying saddlebags. That’s probably TMI, yes?
Not TMI at all. I read about meditation and am interested in it from a neuroscience standpoint, but I always seem to fail at it. Or I guess I just believe I’m failing at it… Was the wall just something to focus on so you didn’t busy yourself looking around?
Yes. Walls do not usually change at a visible rate.
I love this poem. To feel safe and cosy in your own mind is a rare gift.
Well, the monsters and I are really good friends now. I pull thorn out of their paws and stitch them up when they get hurt and now they purr.
I like your positive attitude π
Thank you.
Friends, many dead, but we still remember them. Always.
The old joke, what do you like best about turning one hundred years old? “No peer pressure.” Ow, funny ow.
I’ll tell you in about forty one years.