What’s happening? I hear a cricket outside, sidled up against the drab tan wall of this 2 story duplex that I temporarily call home. To my left is the eternal, incessant noise of the highway (or freeway as they call it here.) This house’s backyard is literally the highway. I can hear vehicles of different sizes roaring by, the deeper-sounding engines carrying heavier loads, either as a bigger-framed passenger vehicle, or a truck hauling merchandise: gas, cows, earth movers. I am sitting cross-legged on the couch I spend most of my waking moments. I hear a plane go by, coming to land. The airport is a few miles away. This spot is in the center of movement, it’s drowning in circles of movements of cars, trucks, and planes. I have yet to hear a train from here. Maybe this house is the eye of a hurricane, it’s calm center with dynamic energy surrounding it makes time and movement go by even slower. No wonder my job seems like it’s sucking my life away here on the couch. I stare at this computer screen 10 hours a day, probably. My left knee hurts from sitting indian style for way too many hours. My almost-40-year-old body is protesting. This is the same posture as I sit in meditation. I spend hours in this position. My lower back hurts, I lean against a square drab light brown pillow but it’s too large so it’s not an ideal support. Everything here is brown: chocolate easy chair, tan couch, carpet, accent pillow. Even the color of the house is that neutral shade of tan. I stare at my vision board, my declarations, my special symbol I have placed in the Field, and continue to place there daily. The oven has been inadvertently turning on without human hands moving the dial. I hear it now, ticking, and the small hiss of the gas.