Look to the future

Over on Write Lightning, Deb suggests an interesting visualization technique that might be used in clearing away emotional clutter when one is faced with a decision. The short of it is this: you imagine walking in to a house, then into a room where you sit with an older, wiser version of yourself and discuss the situation.

Some of you may recall from one of my earlier postings that I have not been, historically, a huge believer in visualization techniques; but I've been trying to decide whether I really need this [some nondescript luxury item that won't distract from the point of the narrative], or if it's my inner child whinging down the aisle of the virtual toy store, so I gave it a whirl.

I walk up to the stoop*—my imaginary old folks' home has a stoop—and knock politely on the front door. No answer. Old Foo must have his hearing aid turned down again, I think, so I try the knob and find the door locked.

Curses.

I take off my t-shirt, wrap it around my knuckles, and clench my teeth as I punch through one of the door's glass panes. No burglar alarm (not that the old codger could hear it if there were). Older and wiser, my hindquarters.

After reaching in and unlocking the door, I step into the foyer, grimacing at the sound of crunching glass and feeling guilty about scarring the hardwood floor. I make my way toward the living room and spot my older, wiser self. He's sound asleep in his chair, with a crocheted throw pulled over him and a laptop computer on his lap. Tropical fish swim across the LCD display, uninterested in my arrival.

"Old Foo?" I say, tentatively, not wanting to startle him.

No response.

"HEY OLD FOO!!"

The old fart duffer jumps, blinking his eyes, disoriented. "Huh? Wha--?"

His eyes focus and I see recognition dawn in them.

"You! GET OUTTA MY HOUSE, YA LITTLE BASTID!!"


Seems I'm 0 for 2 in the visualization exercise department.

* n. Chiefly Northeastern U.S. - A small porch, platform, or staircase leading to the entrance of a house or building.


Now playing: Kansas, Song For America