‘I am a LOVE GODDESS.’
John and Till stare up at me. (For those of you wondering who Till is – he’s our housemate – he’s like a German Larry David who’s been cross bred with Deepak Chopra and in our affections he sits somewhere between Lily and Alula.)
‘I am a Love goddess,’ I repeat, beaming at them.
Is that skepticism I see on their faces?
I have been listening in the car to a blissitation meditation thing. I know I’m not meant to meditate whilst driving because three seconds in the lady with the soporific voice tells me I should have my eyes shut and my hands open in my lap. I wonder out loud whether all the drivers in Bali are listening to this blissitation tape whilst driving – it would explain a few things. Still, I decide I can skip the part about keeping my back straight, eyes shut and hands in my lap and just do the listening part. After all, if there’s one place in the whole of Bali where I need to find the zen, the love – the bliss inside of me – it’s in the car.
Recently we started car pooling (because a) we go to green school and the irony of taking one child on her own in a car 30km a day had not escaped us b) Alula insisted that car pooling would save mother earth and c) because I was in danger of bringing forward the prophecy I was given that I’m going to die in a car crash when I’m 62 – now I’m driving 50% less I figure the odds have dropped). What I hadn’t factored in was how much I swear at other people on the road – and with other children in the car this has become a problem. I mean, it’s one thing Alula learning how to say fricking moron and quite another when a peace loving hippie mum asks you where her daughter has learnt to say arsehole.
As I drive the lady intones in a calm beatific way: I communicate with authenticity and integrity. I repeat it after her.
A car cuts me up.
‘Don’t even think about cutting me up you fricking eegit!’ I yell as I put my foot down.
I appreciate the awesome people in my life.
‘Get out of the damn way.’
I do random acts of kindness for people.
‘No, I’m not letting you out in front of me. Think again Bozo.’
I pull into our drive.
You are a LOVE GODDESS.
‘I am a love goddess,’ I repeat as I kill the engine.
‘I am filled with love,’ I tell John and Till, ‘I have just been listening to a meditation tape in the car and now I am filled to overflowing with love.’
They keep staring at me saying nothing. I think I see them exchange a glance.
I walk in the door.
‘Goddamn the fucking internet’s still not working.’