Autism & Naked Walking

I submitted an essay today as part of my final semester at college.

To ensure its safe passage across the ether, it has been annointed by the blood of my firstborn.  I had it blessed by wise virgins (surprisingly hard to find) by the light of a strawberry moon.  Prior to it's dispatch I realigned its chakras with smudged sage.  Its aura was protected by incanting sacred mantras in ancient Arameic.  I thought it prudent to throw in a little garlic and holy water for good measure, because, vampires.

Y'know, the usual.

All the magic spells were evoked against a backdrop of Bob the fucking Builder in Albanian. 

My brain has been Moulinexed into particularly runny porridge, so I went naked walking to recalibrate.

Disappointingly, naked walking isn't as decadent (or chilly) as it sounds.  

Naked walking is mindfully exercising without the distraction of music, podcasts, phones, Autism, ...... or anything superfluous to surviving a brisk February afternoon.  So..... nothing in my ears.  Nothing buzzing in my pocket.  Just me and my senses and the elements.

The birds are starting to build now, so they were rowdy and energetic.  Sudden flashbombs of sunlight pierced the clouds and exploded back into darkness.  Rainbows played catch with the shadows.  Everywhere was light and movement and windrush.

It was magic.

I was alone, but part of something much greater than myself.

By the time I got home, I was re-centred and mindful that there's a greater world than my blinkered college microcosm.

Within a few hours I was once again part of the flow of family life.  Our ordinary dramas reminded me that I'm part of the poorer, uglier Kardashians.  A bit of naked walking helps me love every minute of it.

"ffs the bitch is watching us"