Overnight they left, flown like a flock of bright birds leaving bare twigs dark trunks against the autumn sky.
Now pavements strewn with drifts of leaves copper, yellow and brown and every colour inbetween bring memories as crisp as every step; snowdrifts are fun, but oh! I remember falling into piles of leaves, laughing.
I’ve been doing some maintenance work on my phone, deselecting unnecessary processes, clearing out apps I don’t use, and emptying the cache (that always sounds alarming, like discarding buried treasure but it turns out it’s more like clearing the garage of junk). I even bought it a new battery, reflecting how nice it would be to install a new one in me, but since this isn’t viable I thought that at least if my phone worked better I might feel invigorated by proxy. My sense of wellbeing has become entwined with the performance, good or otherwise, of my computer and my phone.
But then I’ve suspected for quite a while now that my brain is afflicted with malware and viruses (quite apart from the actual organic maladies it suffers from), and this morning my suspicions were confirmed when I read this, and laughed (and if you read it now, the rest of this will make more sense).
Well, I can see now what the trouble is – like my phone, I have a whole string of applications that run all the time in the background without my realising it. Here’s a few of them: Gloom 5.0 is a general depressant, designed to come up with negative scenarios to fit any situation. Crisis Predictor 3.0 throws up notifications warning of potential disasters several times a day, and Wot If? Aaah! is a creative tool supplying imaginary experiences to challenge my ability to remain calm. I never knowingly installed any of these but can’t find a way of uninstalling them.
However, I’ve now got a collection of programs to turn to which can reverse the damage and neutralise the system. In time, I feel sure I’ll be able to flush the unwanted items completely but in the meantime I can run a meditation app called Back Om, a calming and centering experience that never fails to bring me quietly into presence. Then there’s support at itmightneverhappen.org which reminds me that, well, that horrible thing might never happen and why am I imagining it anyway; and opening Go Flow 2.0 is a really good exercise in letting go, releasing my grip on anything I might currently be clinging to and allowing myself to slip effortlessly through time as everything changes from moment to moment.
I’ve given myself shortcuts to all of these and set up timed alerts to remind me to use them. I’m feeling better already – and maybe it’s a coincidence but my phone is working better too.
Many thanks to the originators of the post I linked to (which is far funnier than what I’ve written), at http://imgbuddy.com/ and to https://otrazhenie.wordpress.com for re-blogging it.
Laughter is the best medicine!
And note: the apps and websites above are my own invention and as far as I know, they don’t exist. (Or do they?)