Hands together, hands apart.
Who listens to a fuck’n tree anyway? It’s absurd to be sitting in the park, on wet grass, surrounded by other hopeless idiots who thought that doing this would make their lives better.
Hands together, hands apart.
I don’t know why I say ‘yes’ to these things. I could be home, on the couch, eating donuts, and watching a movie. If someone wanted to make the wyrld a better place they’d come up with healthy donuts and movies that doubled as exercise.
Clap your hands.
It’s not like I wasn’t happy to begin with. I go to work, I come home, and I go to work again. I have friends, I wouldn’t be sitting here like a fool if it wasn’t for Michelle. I see my family. It’s perfectly reasonable to be burnt out and worn down. I do my job and put in my fair share.
Touch your nose.
I mean, if I spent my days reading and going to the beach I’d have a perpetual smile on my face too, but we can’t all be entitled layabouts. Food doesn’t magically appear. Laundry doesn’t wash itself. And dishes don’t either!
Hands together, hands apart.
I can see that it would be nice not to feel so angry all the time. I have a good life, so I should feel better, right? Or, at least contented?
Hands together, hands apart.
But that’s not what I feel. I’m fine if I’m doing things, but when I stop it never feels like enough.
Tug your ear.
There is so much in the wyrld that I want to do. Places I want to visit. People I want to spend time with. I can’t do it all. I have to make my way and no one is going to do it for me.
Hands together, hands apart.
It’s easy for Michelle. She has loads of money, she’s good at everything, and she owns her own business so she can go wherever she wants whenever she wants and do whatever she wants. I need to be in my office when everyone else is in theirs. I need to make myself available. No one is going to work around my whims.
Hands together, hands apart.
Who doesn’t dream of being successful and good-looking? We all want to be admired and fussed over. But that’s not everyone, so where does that leave the rest of us?
Wiggle your nose.
Seriously? I’m not a rabbit and I’m not Michelle. I can’t wiggle my nose!
Hands together, hands apart.
Why is this so hard? I just want to finish this damn exercise and find inner peace. Birds are happy. Squirrels are happy. I should be able to find my own contentment.
Hands together, hands apart.
This has got to be almost over. We all have things to do. They can’t possibly keep me sitting here all day…. I’m just glad it’s a person leading this. I can only imagine learning from a tree.
Clap your hands.
I wonder what the tree said to the first people it taught, ‘wavy your branches’? They were probably high on something anyways. All of this is just a crock. It’s the kind of thing Michelle does so she can feel good about herself. What I need is an ego as big as hers, then none of this would matter.
Hands together, hands apart.
I’m never going to be her, but I still deserve happiness, don’t I? I see it in other people’s faces. They figured out how to be confident, whole individuals. I just wish I didn’t want things. I wish I could be fine with whatever comes my way. But, I like feeling good and I hate feeling bad.
Hands together, hands apart.
How is this even supposed to work? How is me, sitting here, following meaningless commands supposed to help? I could have gone for a walk or cleaned my bathroom.
“So why didn’t you?”
“Acorn?”
“Yes.”
“The tree?”
“Yes.”
“You’re real?”
“Yes.”
Snap your fingers.
“Are you going to answer my question?”
“I—”
“You don’t have to, y’know.”
Hands together, hands apart.
“I—”
Touch your nose.
“You don’t have to do that either.”
Hands together, hands apart.
“B-but, that’s why I’m here.”
Hands together, hands apart.
“To clap your hands? I thought you were here to find peace?”
Rub your chin.
“I am, but it doesn’t seem to be working.”
“Maybe you should get up then?”
Hands together, hands apart.
“No, I want to be happy!”
“But you’re not, so why don’t you do something else?”
Hands together, hands apart.
Touch your head.
“Nothing else works.”
Hands together, hands apart.
“Then try this.”
Hands together, hands apart.
“I have!”
“Have you?”
Scratch your eyebrow.
Hands together, hands apart.
Hands together, hands apart.
Wiggle your toes.
“You can stop and open your eyes.”
“Okay.”
Hands together, hands apart.
“Why’s Michelle’s face all puckered like that?”
Hands together, hands apart.
“Well… she’s not there yet.”
Shrug your shoulders
“But she’s good at everything.”
“Really?”
Hands together, hands apart.
“Maybe not.”
Hands together, hands apart.
“I still don’t understand, but then again maybe I don’t need to.”
Wiggle your nose.
“Nice, you used your hand this time.”
“It just makes it easier.”
“Yes, it does.”
