Tens of thousands of white little hairs stand on end in Mobi’s ear, they’re part of a delicate Japanese brush that’ll never be used, but will only be washed, gently, by a soft paw. I look at the never-ending coat of fur, covering her entire body. Each hair is perfection.

If you really are attentive, genuinely are in the here and now, it is impossible to ignore the impact of everything that surrounds you – unless you’re in a coma or you shut everything out. It can burst right open, shine and sparkle right in front of you, this world. My body’s drawing the blood out of my stomach, I’m experiencing pure joy, happiness, wonder, fear, angst. Real attention is exhaustive. It burns you.

So go on, bite the apple. Mindfulness has gained worldwide popularity as a distinctive method to handle emotions. What do these people mean? Handle what? Do they even know what they’re saying? How perverse it is? What kind of minding is that anyhow, when life, the full monty, is crashing right through you? Handle emotions, while it causes them? What kind of twisted logic is that?

I’m sick-in-the-stomach, take a deep bow before the abyss.

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