A few weeks before this writing, I found myself undergoing a hospital procedure that I can only describe as intolerably uncomfortable and painful. But, enough of that, because it is not the story, but it was the genesis of the story, which is how my world “moved.”
A few days after the above procedure, two things happened that I attribute to the hospital experience. First, I noticed that I was seeing animate and inanimate objects differently. I still felt a visceral connection to animate objects, be they human or animal. On the other hand, I felt nothing when gazing at a gorgeous house, beautiful landscaping, holiday lights, or luxurious new cars. They were just there, and I had no emotion whatsoever about them. In that same vein, while driving my car I did not feel any connection to the road. I might as well have been a passenger because I certainly was not in charge. The road was just passing beneath us, and the car seemed to understand where it was destined to deliver us.
The second change I experienced was that I no longer had my daily routines embedded in my brain. I did not remember exactly what I needed to accomplish before appearing for breakfast; what utensils were required for the meal in question; what the needs of the animals were that required my attention; and, generally, what I was doing in this house. Even this morning, I forgot to inhale my pills before embarking on the day’s workload on the computer.
I don’t know what to attribute these new realities to, but something moved my world a little and things are a little off kilter. I’m sure everything will eventually fall back into place, but what if it doesn’t?