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So, I’m flipping through the Yoga Journal magazine I just bought. Contrary to the relaxed feeling I anticipated would arise when I sat down to skim the pages, I’m getting really angry.

I’m angry because I’m still irrationally stewing over my stupid computer that just crashed. The second one in two weeks (I was warned by my horoscope that September was not the time for electronic purchases due to Mercury Retrograde – self-fulfilling prophecy or wisdom in the stars??). I waited the whole live long summer to finally decide to purchase the damn thing and then crash, clog, stick, stuck dumb blue downloading line that just doesn’t move and f-in spinning colour wheel that just winds you up as it perpetually whirrs across the screen…ah! Two in a row.

Anyway, yeah, I just want one of these dumb, slick machines to work. They’re only machines, but man, throw me a bone.

But what is making me the most angry, is that it’s making me angry and all I want to do is chill and enjoy my day off. So, I’ve decided I’m going to do just that, leafing through my magazine here, but the pesky annoyance keeps flagging my consciousness and spreading like wildfire throughout my whole headspace. FINE! If you’re not going to get chafed about this, then you’ll have to get good and huffy about something else instead, it says to me.

My fervent eye turns to the pages of the innocent, defenseless magazine. Who has time to think of a crippled macbook, when oh look, a picture of a pretty girl in her ‘Be Green’ tank, adorned with pins with slogans such as, ‘One Home, One Earth’, ‘Save our Earth’ and the like. I don’t think my eyes could possibly roll any farther into the back of my head. How much energy and resources are wasted in the promotion of those ideas? The creation of the pins themselves, the printing and publishing of this magazine, the production of her cute, little ‘green’ tank top? We insist on using these stale structures to promote change, and it ain’t gonna fill the bill. New molds! Transition will never come if we can’t shake the foundations of all the frameworks from which we see things.

For example, let’s have a looksie at the ridiculous sham we’ve dubbed, “Earth Hour.” OOOH, I know, lets all turn our lights out for an hour to help us realize what a bunch of disgusting wasters we are. We’ll sit by candlelight (eat, drink, do yoga perhaps) and it’ll be quaint, and cool and we’ll be making a difference! Siiiick. Do we actually believe this load of lies we’re feeding ourselves? Yeah, and in order to get everyone on board to turn the lights out for an hour, we’ll make posters and TV commercials using precious time and energy (of more than one sort) to help disseminate a buzz, you know, to help raise awareness.

Gag me with a spoon and rotate. And I’ll admit it, I participated in the whole exercise and probably even felt good about it. Way to go. Pat, pat, pat on the back. Hill of beans of difference? I doubt it.

We don’t have time. The most dangerous illusion of all is this one – tick, tock, tick, tock. Enough with the energy that’s being displaced into promoting these ideas and lifestyles. Enough with the….same old, same old. We’re looking at the wrong things. Or we’re using the wrong things to look. I dont know. We’re only humans, I know, but man, like I said, throw me a bone here.

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I came across an opal. I didn’t plan on it. It was just sitting there, cracked, discarded, so I tried it on. Lo and behold, it fit. I don’t mind the crack. So little of what I wear is perfect anyway. I’m getting used to its gentle cradling of my (ring) finger. It fits, but in a very discreet manner. It’s just like hanging out. Heeey…silver band and (black spot) opal here…thanks for rescuing me. I love you, ring. I hope I never lose you.

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