Epiphany

Photo by Austin Chan on Unsplash

I remember.

This one day in a college lecture the instructor was highlighting the virtues and pitfalls of hallucinogenic drug use on the human psyche.

"So I have this friend who's a brilliant writer, you know? He calls me up and says, 'Dude, I keep having this amazing word pop into my brain the last few times I've gotten high. Like its structure just blows my mind, and the meanings it conveys, and I gotta capture it, I just keep forgetting.' Ok, so I tell him to keep one of his gazillion note pads handy next time he lights a joint and write it down so he can find it when he's sober."

"Well, kids, he did it. Wanna know what this transcendental language icon was?"

"'The.......' Just the word 'the.'"

Titters from the crowd.

"I know, right? So there you have it."

And he launched into a litany of other effects THC and other hallucinogens can have on the brain, particularly with respect to short-term memory.

(Let it be known that I have never had the slightest interest in experimenting with pot. Not a moral high-horse thing, simply too many negative associations with the drug as a child.)

So keep that story in your back pocket.

Monday night, I was so excited, practically giddy - really, to go back to yoga after a very long absence during fall semester.

Except.

This specific class has gained some crazy popularity, and when I opened the door on-time, the studio was packed to the gills.

No room at the Yoga Inn.

Sadly, I resigned myself to climbing the stairs to the cardio balcony that overlooks the basketball courts, where Colton and Christopher redeem their 6 hours of school-day sedentarism through sweat on a regular basis.

I'd planned on 50 minutes of yoga plus 30 minutes of cardio that night, so I set the elliptical for an hour.

See previous note about my gym hibernation last semester. And note, that's a hella long time for an out of shape mom.

But where a girl has goals and endless power jams from Adam Levine, Ed Sheeran, Kelly, Meghan, and Katie, a girl has the ability.

About 30 minutes in the endorphins start to kick in, and with them, insights to the speech I need to write for my upcoming Sentate confirmation start to trickle through my mind.

Then flashes of thought as to recent marital strife - how I could really resolve some things on my end.

Hey, you know, I bet you could solve the world's problems with this strategy....

Churchy thoughts, reflections of Saturday's time with the homeless.

Ideas on how I could start writing more of my stuff, creative plots, beautiful vignettes.

Seriously, mind-blowing, revolutionary sagaciousness was flowing with the blood pumping through my mom-bod.

See also: bordering on delusional.

I'm gonna have to write these down, these are so good!

And then, scene.

Workout is over, I'm dripping sweat everywhere (regrettably after the staff had just wiped the area down - sorry, folks), I'm in that blissed out state that occurs when one really moves and pushes their body.

Go pick up the boys and wrangle them to head home.

Arrive at casa del Meyer.

And poof! 

All insights are gone. What were those amazing thoughts?

I suppose I'll need to start recording my thoughts as they pop up during my elliptical time.

But.

A tiny bit of me is scared the profundity will be much less in real time.

You know, about as deep as "the."