The Art of the Antsy-Pants

I love to read. Obviously. Otherwise this writing thing would be more awkward than it normally is… for me. And you. And, possibly, others. Uncomfortable AND terrible grammar? Holy moly. Bring it on! It be a two-fer!
Im here for you, people. And you love it. Well, at least, I love it… like I love cheese. Random connection. And if you know how deep my love affair with cheese goes, then you’d understand how REAL that love is.

That being -unnecessarily-said, I started reading The Art of Stillness by Pico Iyer…. Well, kind of. Which I knew would be a good read; However, I couldn’t seem to dust off my self-starter wand and open the damn thing up. Stop fidgeting. I can’t. I tried. I mean, I had read the forward. And the book cover. But, I don’t think that counted as, actual reading.  Finding the stillness inside of me to sit down and read about being still had been challenging.

 Fast forward to last night, where I actually had enough Red Bull to open this little beastly book.  Yay! Got my wings! It starts off with the author talking about the passage to nowhere. I already feel like I spin my wheels on a daily basis, so I skipped ahead to Chapter Two: The Charting of Stillness. Probably my favorite section of the book actually. It covered the path of how sitting still can be like a battlefield. Who me? Impatient? Restless? I can relate. I’m very chatty in yoga class. Hush. Sssshhh. So I skipped past the next three chapters. Blah. Blah. Blah. Something about being alone in the dark. Blah Blah. Blah. Using stillness when it’s needed most. Yadah. Yadah. Ugh. I’m so antsy. Give me something I can use, Mr. Pico!

Ah, finally… Chapter Six: Coming Back Home. I’m back from nowhere! Oh thank goodness. My pantaloons were starting to chafe. Now I’m starting to think and analyze too much. Not sure what this tranquility lesson will do for you. But, rallying a motionlessness in my britches, only helps me nit-pick everything.  Or anything. Flipping over my thought tables. Causing vessles to pop. This book was actually a good read; But, for me? All it did was agitate my antsy-pants.