My Happy Corner and Life is Simple


It’s Wednesday. I love Wednesdays. I love them so hard. On Wednesdays, Juniper goes to yoga with Miss Kelly. Kelly and I graduated together but I only recently learned that she had a lot of the same issues I did growing up.

Sensitivity to sensory experiences. Shyness. Overstimulation in social interactions.

Honestly? I was shocked. She always seemed so above it all. And she’s still way more put together than I am. But she owns Peace Love and Wellness yoga studio downtown.

Oh. My. Heck. I love the lobby at this place. It’s above the Arbor Coffee House downtown. It’s been lots of things over the years.

I used to take a weekly group meditation class here a thousand years ago, when it was The City Loft.

Kelly teaches meditation too, which I’d love to take again.

But money.

And time.

I don’t have any of either.

But Juno loves her yoga, so we make that happen for her. Anyhow, it’s for me too. Because especially on nights like tonight, when she’s the only kiddo here, which means I’m the only grown folks here, I get to huddle into my corner and go full mental. In a good way. Good mental.

That’s my corner. And this is the view from my corner:

I love my corner. I love it hard. June stole my phone and caught me loving my corner after class tonight. See?

I may or may not have passed out in the corner of the yoga studio lobby like a homeless person. It’s fine. I didn’t think my face muscles could melt like that, but. Apparently they do.

I have never known a reality in which I’m not effortlessly grinding my teeth by default, like a tweaker who can’t score a bowl.

It’s bananas.

My favorite thing is just to throw on a meditation and put some ear buds in and just melt. It feels so good to close my eyes and drift for 30 whole minutes without a single unwanted sensory assault.

One of my favorites is this one:

Gaelforce does a lot of… different…stuff.

Yeah. We’ll say “stuff,” and leave it at that.

But I tend to watch for his tours and his banter. He’s Irish (or at least he plays the role of an Irishman…he could be living in a meth lab/basement in the dumpy section of Peoria, for all I know), so he’s a good storyteller.

Is that racist?

I don’t know. I hope it’s not racist. The Irish are natural banter merchants.


I love the Irish.

And the Peorians, I guess.

I don’t know. I’m pretty much neutral on the Peorians, if I’m honest.

I really like when he just rambles about random shit.

But. Anyhow, he does some great local guide and travel type videos, too. And some good meditations.

And, you know, if you’re the type of guy/gal who’s into 50 Shades of…whatever, he’s got that on offer as well.

No judgement.

I like his tour videos a lot though, because the dirty rat bastard can travel, a lot, so he must be a lot more loaded than me (which we’ve established is not a high ceiling to crash through by any means but still), and this is one of my favorites.

It’s just the right time of day (which is night) and there’s no icky love stuff.

It’s just, like…if someone gave Anton Chekhov a GoPro and said “do what it is that you do, but do it with your mouth instead of a pen. And be Irish instead of Russian. And film it. And put it on YouTube.”

That would be this video.

I like it so much that I’ve watched or listened to it enough times that it’s literally a trigger for self-soothing at this point.

Good stuff.

“Life is easy.”


Keep telling yourself that, Stace.

One day, you might actually believe it.

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