Healthy Body, Sick Mind

Is a Operation Ivy song and the state that I assumed I should be in because my main computer shut down for good last night, which is probably the worst thing right now because that's where I work and record music.  Maybe I don't think too highly of myself because I would assume I would be doing something really stupid like buying a bottle of whiskey and starting a fight with one of my walls, but I'm not.  I'm really calm and still have a sense of humor about things.  I don't want to go off the pcp path so I guess I'm not.  I like being tired at night from the workout and the diet is steady.  I like how everyone has suggestions on food, and I can experiment with my meals instead of just noticing the lack of salt.  I can't tell if I look different but I feel different, and it's a good feeling.  I remembered an event that happened to me about eight years ago that has always stuck with me.  I was at a level three sound healing seminar on a organic farm and resort in Colorado.  Everyone there choose to stay in the cabins during the seminar, but I wanted to save money so I stayed in a tent.  One night there was a huge storm and my tent broke so I shivered the night away in rain water.  The next morning I was extremely cold, tired, and angry as I went to get breakfast.  I didn't want to sit with the other people I had meet so I sat at a table and sulked looking at my perfectly prepared breakfast.  And something happened, something I didn't ask for but welcomed.  There were nine teachers there and one of them was a tibetan buddhist monk.  Now I'm not a buddhist (I'm nothing really) but I feel those monk have a pretty good philosophy.  He came to my table with such a humble presence and said, "Can I sit here?" as if I were saving the seven seats around me.  I said sure and he sat down, so I tried to explain my current condition by mumbling, "You'll have to excuse me, I spent the night in the rain. . ."  He never acknowledged any of my ramblings, but instead just looked at me and said, "It's good, good."  He was referring to his bowl of oatmeal in front of him.  His plain white, salt free, no cinnamon, no honey, no nothing, bowl of oatmeal.  I replied, "Yes, very good."  I was a liar, a dirty, wet, and stinking liar.  I'd never had a bowl of plain oatmeal in my life, but what he was talking about was his food is good and I agreed with food being good.  So I starting eating and we continued to talk.  Not about buddhism but how breakfast was good, and so was life.  I walked away from the table rejuvenated and ready to continue the day.  My body was still run down but my mind was happy and alert.  I'm going to try to keep that mindset through the project, and keep thinking to myself that the food is good without salt, and even though my calves are sore I'm going to do the exercises.  Rest in peace computer, you performed well while I had you.