If I have to be stuck in the great indoors, I need to have windows. A windowless room cuts me off from the rest of the world, trapping me in a shoebox that’s running out of air.
I stepped into a shoebox today. A gentleman showed me in and then closed the door behind us. There we were in the sealed rectangle of four empty walls, an oblong table, and a few chairs. No windows. “Feels like an interrogation room,” I thought, sensing the walls closing in around me. I mustered all my energy to stop myself from bolting.
“Interrogation room.” The words echoed in my mind. “Just like on NCIS… Hey… Gibbs, the calm, wise team lead of few words- what would he be like on the receiving end in the NCIS interrogation room?”
A shield fell around me as I imagined myself as Gibbs, sitting down slowly, controlled. Like Gibbs would have done (in my mind), I nodded slightly as the gentleman spoke and gave him a look that showed I knew more than I said.
My heart rate stabilized, I was poised, focused, oblivious to the shoebox I was in. The rest of my time in the” interrogation room” went smoothly. Gibbs’s calm held.
How interesting that being able to imagine oneself as another person can open a much-needed window to let in a cool breeze in a moment of discomfort.
2012- the end of the world. Of course they made a movie of it. They, them, the ones who run the world- according to the conspiracy theories. They pull the strings, we dance. We’ll flock to the theatres, buy the t-shirts, incorporate the anxiety of immanent doom into our psyches. That way we’ll go to more movies to escape our existential angst, buy more merchandise to soothe our souls, and so keep the economy humming along. How else did we think the world kept turning?
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