Time lines

This was one of those moments, seconds passing and the jet shooting across the sky. A glance up, an interminable fumbling with the power switch, Maizy tugging impatiently on her lead. A second longer and the harmony would be gone, or at least changed beyond my ability to appreciate it.

lines in the sky

There is a phrase “bitterness is a poison I drink hoping you die”. This was a revelation to me when I first heard it about six months ago although goodness knows the concept of self-harm as a response to an external situation is not foreign to me.
My revelation of today (thank you, therapist) is that the anaconda coils of anxiety crushing my ribs, an ever-tightening straight-jacket of stasis even as I struggle to escape are… wait for it… entirely of my own making!

I am enmeshed in a time net, knotted in not-doing.

Why this might be is beyond me. It’s childish, short-sighted, cowardly and above all hurts me more than anyone else.

Right. Now. While I spend another four years or so seeking the root cause I can at least attempt to ameliorate the asphyxiating anaconda angst.

Unfortunately the advice said to be given by the US Government on what to do in the event of an anaconda attack is not proving useful:

1. If you are attacked by an anaconda, do not run. The snake is faster than you are.

2. Lie flat on the ground. Put your arms tight against your sides, your legs tight against one another

3. Tuck your chin in.

4. The snake will come and begin to nudge and climb over your body.

5. Do not panic

6. After the snake has examined you, it will begin to swallow you from the feet and – always from the end. Permit the snake to swallow your feet and ankles. Do not panic

7. The snake will now begin to suck your legs into its body. You must lie perfectly still. This will take a long time.

8. When the snake has reached your knees slowly and with as little movement as possible, reach down, take your knife and very gently slide it into the side of the snake’s mouth between the edge of its mouth and your leg, then suddenly rip upwards, severing the snake’s head.

9. Be sure you have your knife.

10. Be sure your knife is sharp.

Snopes tells me (as I suspected) that it’s false, but provides no alternative strategy.

(Snakes. Aren’t they just brilliant? and the words associated with them… “Ouroboros“, “cthonic serpents“, “caduceus” etc etc… but this is merely wasting time. Back to the coal face to cast off a coil.)

5 Replies to “Time lines”

  1. Oh, well done for catching this. It is so graceful and uplifting.

    You’re crushing your own ribs – ergo you ARE the snake – they are as you say brilliant, and FULL of power. Embrace the snake, I say!

  2. Hey, this snake thing sounds familiar… 😉

    Brilliant image up there, with its hopeful angle. ^^^

  3. But what to do when the ‘you’ in question is already dead? In my observation, though not personal experience, this can seem to double the toxic dose.
    I have very occasionally found that Molly’s tug on the lead has occasioned a compositional shift which has been to the advantage of the final picture. But not usually.

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