Princess Amy
She closed her eyes, lifted her chin a couple of inches, and held up a hand, palm open as if to ward off any negative energy I might be emitting.
"If you're going on about soul vessels, Celtic goddesses, and Charlie Asher, just stop now. Your agents of evil are nothing more than Princess Amy. In fact, Amy is simply another term for your dysfunctional limbic system, but I can work with that."
"But...," she continued, "listen carefully because what I'm about to say is the most important part. You need to understand this—there are no sewer harpies."
"Mabd is the worst of them," I replied. "I can handle Macha and Nemain, but Mabd is pure evil."
"Amy is just making all this up," the Wonder said, ignoring my comment. "You're blowing things out of proportion—these are just random events that have Amy worked up, and she tells you it's supernatural."
"I’ve heard all of that before," I said. "I’ve considered it and even believed it, or, if not truly believed it, I accepted it as good enough to get on with. I’ve told you before that it’s not the events themselves but how frequently they keep occurring that bothers me. Like the Demon King."
Once again, I saw eye-rolling, a lifted chin, and a deep breath, followed by an open palm. It reminded me of Arnold Schwarzenegger's famous line, "Talk to the hand."
"Let's get grounded, shall we?" asked the Wonder. She wasn't making a suggestion; she was getting down to business, and I realized paying attention would be in my best interest.
"First," she continued, "we need to address the demon king once and for all. I've told you a hundred times that the Thai water opera demon king you sold on eBay was not authentic. It was just a souvenir sold at the Bangkok airport."
"The solution to your problem," she continued, "is to find humor in the circumstances that trouble you. You're right to turn to The Circular Journey. What it lacks is consistency. My suggestion is to blog every day."
"Wise counsel, Wonder," I replied, and I genuinely meant it. She had touched on a truth that I hold dear but often overlook, as if I have more important things to focus on. "I will post every day."
"You're also doing the right thing by using music to lift your spirits. But you limit your listening to road trips. Why not listen more at home?"
"That's an excellent observation," I said, meaning it wholeheartedly. This piece of wisdom sparked something in me. "Continuous music," I declared.
"And finally," she said, "you're not socializing nearly enough. You seldom go to meetings. Your social life is limited to seeing Lupe and Claudia on random weekdays and Island Irv on Sunday mornings."
The 'meetings' she referred to are a part of the recovery program for those who have abused alcohol and other substances, like the white powder we used to sprinkle in our hemp doobies.
"There are no lunch-hour meetings here in Waterford," I replied, "so with the Cape Fear bridge closed, I’ll be going to Southport for meetings instead. And just so you know, there are no recovery programs for coffee consumption, so I’ll continue to abuse caffeine--just saying."
"Oh," she said, as if suddenly receiving a jolt of information from the Akashic Record, "exercise and meditation are most important. You have a workout program, but you're not consistent. You need to make it a top priority."
"I refer to those activities as my Power Principles," I replied. "It's something I learned from SuperBetter."
I added that last part because I was beginning to feel like the student, and I much preferred being the teacher. I used to teach. In fact, I used to do a lot of things. Perhaps the core issue was the past tense. I'd feel better being the teacher rather than someone who used to teach.
"It's not important what you call them," she said, "as long as you practice them regularly."
I froze! What was she thinking? Not important what I called them? I watched her lips move as she continued to speak, but I heard nothing she said.
My mind had gone off track, caught in a tangled web of emotions, similar to the time I attempted to turn onto Old Thatcher Road as a teenager while riding my bike with my hands on my head. I don’t need to explain how that ended.
Yet, my wondrous life partner was offering her wisdom of extraordinary possibilities. If you know me at all, you know that when Wonder speaks, I listen, and not only listen--I act!
First, I checked in with Princess Amy and found her in a good mood. Then, I renewed my commitment to taking sober, rational steps. "Reasonable action" is something we'll need to define as we go along—I don't have much experience with being reasonable. So, stay tuned to The Circular Journey for updates as they unfold.
I have a feeling that I'm onto something big!