After I returned home to Lethbridge, I went to my usual spot in Henderson Park and did wards in the deep snow around the base of the tree. It was getting very cold, and I was starting to detect the effects of sickness. I concluded, drove to my residence, and sat down. The previous worker had left the TV on, which was showing a movie called Crazy Stupid Love. I didn’t bother turning off the TV. I let myself be mesmerized by the pursuits of the actors in the comedy. The show wasn’t terrible. It was actually quite entertaining. But it occupied my kind until I drifted off to sleep.
I awoke to a knock on the door. Nothing was written in my dream diary. The worker who comes to replace me was standing outside in the cold. He came in and I reflected on why it was that I had nothing written in my diary, and why I hadn’t woken up early enough for my replacement. Was I getting sick? Was I exhausted? Was the master of dreams leaving me?
I’ve seen it written that TV is a kind of meditation, trance in its own right. But if it is controlling the images, where do our minds go? If we’re talking about the tv show I was watching, the answer would be crazy stupid love. Alternately, if I want more control over my trance experience, how can I program my mind to enter different rooms, or bird tech to different places? That’s what chapter 3 is all about, and I’m very glad we’re putting this into practice.
No experience is a wasted experience, and this tv trance is an example of an exploration into understanding trance. I would like a greater level of control over my imagination. I’ve been fed images since I was young. Shouldn’t I want more say over what those images tell me?
Here is an image that won’t be erased from my mind for a long time:
Can a tv trance compare to the radiating effects of a super moon on a cold winter’s night?