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Shower attention bits intention

 When I shower

I feel a deep sense of meditation most likely because there is a continuous flow of attention to each of my movements be it mental kinetic or ruminative in any sense that this whole into a very focus zone due to the hum of the heater or the continuous flow of water trickling. Every bit of intention and energy flows from my mind to each extremity and they simmer and mature with the act of repetition with each scrub with each rotation with each rub of my hands my fingers to the census on my skin to the actions made to clean not just the body but my surroundings my foot squeezing a brush scoring the tiles my other foot pressing down on a squeegee wiping down walls precariously balanced on one leg as my hands are preoccupied with keeping the flow and jet of water centered on the next area I am cleaning not just my body but my mind my headspace and my perturbed soul washing it out with white noise whilst in the act of something productive and repetitious which then causes something to Spring from this meditative state something that is creative something that merges thoughts something that allows a crystallized idea to form, bubbling sup from the soup of submerged thoughts. These are all the shower ideas that erupt to the surface and I try to capture the shape and size and contents of how the bubble looks it's color and its narrative before it pops because that's how quickly shower thoughts expire. 


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When I shower, I feel a deep sense of meditation, most likely because there is a continuous flow of attention to each of my movements, be they mental, kinetic, or ruminative. Somehow, all of this pulls me into a deeply focused zone, aided by the hum of the heater and the continuous trickling flow of water.

Every bit of intention and energy flows from my mind to each extremity, simmering and maturing through repetition: with each scrub, each rotation, each rub of my hands and fingers against the surface of my skin. My actions clean not just my body, but also my surroundings—my foot squeezing a brush across the tiles, my other foot pressing down on a squeegee wiping the walls, precariously balancing on one leg while my hands remain preoccupied with keeping the flow and jet of water centered on the next area I am cleaning.

I am cleansing not just my body, but also my mind, my headspace, and my perturbed soul, washing them out with white noise while engaged in something productive and repetitive. From this meditative state, something begins to spring forth: something creative, something that merges thoughts, something that allows a crystallized idea to form, bubbling up from the soup of submerged thoughts.

These are the shower ideas that erupt to the surface, and I try to capture the shape, size, and contents of each bubble—its color and its narrative—before it pops, because that is how quickly shower thoughts expire.

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