12-24-2004, 05:55 PM
Fresh from my shower, I stand in front of the mirror complaining to my husband that my breasts are too small. Instead of characteristically telling me it's not so, he uncharacteristically comes up with a suggestion. "If you want your breasts to grow, then every day take a piece of toilet paper and rub it between them for a few seconds." Willing to try anything, I fetch a piece of toilet paper and stand in front of the mirror, rubbing it between my breasts. "How long will this take?" I asked. "They will grow larger over a period of years," my husband replies. I stopped. " Do you really think rubbing a piece of toilet paper between my breasts every day will make my breasts larger over the years?" Without missing a beat he says "Worked for your butt, didn't it?"
He's still alive, and with a great deal of therapy he may even walk again.
Stupid, stupid man.
I realise that I have a past to break with--an accumulation of inertia, wrong, foolishness, rot, junk. A great need of clarification, of mindfulness, or rather, of no mind. A need to return to genuine practice, right effort. Need to push on the great doubt. Need for the spirit. Hang on to the clear light.
Thomas Merton
