A woke friend in a wide brimmed hat,
through a fog of incense, below a dream
catcher, above a mound of tie-dye rugs,
told me that anger was bad for me, even
in short bouts, and that I must quell it
with every bit of might as if it were a spark
about to take flame on the fur of my cat.
A bit drastic, I thought.
She recommended sea salts and bloodstone
crystals to clean my spirit, then said: "These
rocks have healing properties. Their stable
vibrational frequency will penetrate your
energy. It’s science! "
I asked her to explain the science. She told me
Einstein said: "Everything is energy, and
that’s all there is to it. This is not philosophy.
This is physics. "
I told her that doesn't explain how crystals work
and there is no substantive evidence that these are
Einstein’s words. Then she said: "You’re too much
in your head."
I asked: "Where else am I supposed to be?" She
told me, "in your heart," then lit up a posy of sage
and said: "Anger is a heady quality. It will scorch
your insides, you’ll end up with ulcers, and before
you know it, you’ll have a meltdown."
Then she added: "Not a single being
on earth is built for a fiery defense."
I told her: "Well, actually, some species are."
She said: "Nothing is, unless you believe in
dragons that spit fire."
I asked her not to be so absolute, to which she replied:
"The truth comes from the heart, and the heart is made
of light, and the speed of light is absolute."
"You’re not making any sense," I said.
She doused the sage, then smashed the tray
of smelly sticks and strode off without a second glance,
while mouthing off: "Nothing is built for fire. Nothing is.
You will burn down! "
The only takeaway here is this: bombardier beetles
shoot fire from their asses, and they do not have
Feature image via 'Art Collection - The Metropolitan Museum of Art'