How To Solve a Problem

“Houston, we have a problem.”

“I knew you were gonna say that.”

“What else could I say?”

Josh gave his father a smile before the older man looked back at his phone. He had just told Josh a bit of sports news that his son had already seen, that the Houston Texans football team had fired their head coach, their latest in a line of failed coaches after years without success on the field.

“Maybe they should fire that GM, too,” Josh continued.

“Maybe they should break it all down and start over.”

~~~

“It’s no problem, I just thought I was going crazy.”

This was not the first time it had happened.

This time Josh’s co-worker had returned to his cart to find all the materials he had hunted and gathered had vanished. Four bottles of chemical food ingredients, simply gone! 

It was bizarre, but not quite the unintelligible mystery it would have been, say, three months before.

Before Josh arrived.

The young man considered himself an atheist and looked to logic as a guide, having the intelligence to apply it effectively. He maintained a well-worn habit of keeping his brain stimulated in his so-called downtime with long video game sessions and, faced with this vanished bottle puzzle, he eventually reasoned to retrace his steps.

Once he found that the materials had somehow returned to their original places on the lab’s shelves, it wasn’t long before the young man reasoned his way over to Josh’s station.

Josh was gaining a reputation.

After Josh had, at first, answered lightheartedly that he had not touched the bottles, the airy buoyancy within him had gradually turned to a feeling of dread. 

Josh had some grasp of logic in his own right and there was no reason for anyone else in the lab to return those materials. 

It didn’t make sense.

This must have been another blockage.

When Josh told his co-worker that he may have been absent-minded the young man had been forgiving but still sort of lurked there, as if awaiting some unimagined explanation that would link up the broken chain of logic and set the game right again.

But what more could Josh say?

~~~

“That’s a problem.”

How did I get here? Josh wondered.

“Are you listening to me?” she asked with a grin, as if the idea of him tuning her out were a great thrill.

Another blockage. They’re getting longer.

“Were you listening to the radio again?” she asked with genuine curiosity.

Josh glanced down at the dashboard and listened, in time to hear the crooning of a voice both worldly and vulnerable.

“Rhiannon rings like a bell through the night

And wouldn’t you love to love her?”

“I love this song,” the girl said.

“It's not bad. So what was the problem?" he asked as he drove.

“Seriously? It’s like you’re not even here sometimes.”

You don't know how right you are.

“That doesn't seem right.”

“Ugh! I’m telling you how my marriage ended and you can’t even listen?” But she was betrayed by the small smile she couldn’t stop from playing across her bare pink lips.

“...Woman, taken by the wind.”

Josh only chuckled, having nothing to say. The girl took a moment to compose herself before another volley. “It’s like you don’t even care about me.”

"Don't tell me then," Josh responded, with a warm laugh.

“I'll tell you, just try to stay here this time, okay?”

“Would you stay if she promised you heaven?”

She proceeded to tell him again of the day she came home from work to find her addict then-husband kneeling before their toilet.

“He was totally gone,” she said, before adding softly, “Almost as bad as you,” and her pale blue eyes met Josh's.

“Like I told you before," she continued, "when you had your earmuffs on, he still lied. He knew this was it after I kicked him out the first time.” 

“She rules her life like a bird in flight

And who will be her lover?”

“He said it was something he ate and he got up to leave, so I sat down right there in front of the bathroom door and blocked it. He begged me like crazy but I wouldn’t move. I said ‘you’re going to tell me the truth,’ and after two hours he finally admitted it and showed me the pill bottle. I would have sat there on the floor all night if I had to. I’m not going to be married to a drug addict.”

Why is everything spinning?

Another one, so soon?

"Taken by, taken by the sky."

"You're tougher than you look, little lady."

"So you heard me this time?"

"Every exhilarating word."

Then the girl's face got color. "Shut up," she said as her hand touched his arm.

The spinning had accelerated. Josh's world had slowly degenerated into a frantic vortex of scrambled images and now began to pass into blackness.

"Don’t call me ‘little,’ you know I hate that."

"Dreams unwind

Love's a state of mind."

~~~

"The only problem was you. How's that?"

As Josh slid his two new cards toward him he again had the strange feeling there was somewhere else he was supposed to be—as if he should stand up from the table and walk out of the room immediately. He looked around the poker room and racked his brain for a destination but came up with nothing; he had made the drive there by himself, just to play poker.

 As he watched the action of the players in front of him the podcast continued in his ear.

"If the only problem is you, let it go. It's much easier. It's great. Not only was it easier and better for Sally and your relationship, but it actually took you to God, because you let go of a piece of the garbage that got hit. 

It is always the highest thing to do, to let go. Do you understand that? You relax and release.

It’s not easy, is it? That stuff that’s getting hit got stored down there because you didn’t like it when it happened. Remember? You pushed it away?”

Action came to Josh and he peeled his cards up and checked his hand.

Ten of clubs. Three of hearts.

Did I push it away, Singer? Josh asked in his head. I guess I’ll push these away too.

After Josh tossed the cards into the middle face-down, folding another hand, he noticed a young woman standing behind the dealer’s seat in the casino’s all-black poker dealer uniform, with black hair and dark eyes to match—eyes crowned with noticeably long, curvy eyelashes. 

She held a tray of poker chips in her right hand tucked against her side as if it were a large textbook and her youthful appearance made the picture absurdly comical. Her body faced the table but her head was turned to her left, away from Josh, idly gazing around the room.

Black hair, black eyes, black shirt, black pants. Now there’s a ‘four of a kind.’

“Are you sure you’re ready for this?” he asked her. “This table is the big leagues.”

She turned to him and smiled as if relieved. Had she felt awkward standing there hovering, with nothing to focus on, as everyone else sat?

“Yeah, I’m ready,” she responded in a voice so low Josh was only mostly sure he understood it.

“Whoa, don’t get cocky, kid. Where’d you get all that swag from?”

“I’m just awesome,” she answered gladly, but now looking down at the cards on the table.

“I believe it,” Josh said, and now she met his eye.

When the hand ended the dealer said his goodbye, and as the young woman sat down and began to deal Josh again had the feeling that he needed to be somewhere else, urgently. Again it baffled him and caused him to look around the room in wonder. He felt he should stand up and walk out right away, but logically there was nowhere to go.

The young man to Josh’s right was the “big blind” on the next hand, meaning he was forced to post a bit of money into the pot before the cards were dealt out. Josh looked down at his cards, the four of diamonds and the three of diamonds, and folded regrettably with pursed lips. A raise then came from a player at the other end of the table and the young man next to Josh folded.

It now fell on the young woman with the black hair, dark eyes, black shirt and black pants to reach from her seat in the center to the edge of the table, grab the big blind money the young man had posted in front of him, and add it to the pot in front of her in the center. 

It was difficult for her to reach all the way across the table; she fully extended and struggled to get the chips. As she did so her sleeve pulled up and exposed some of her forearm, and to his surprise Josh saw that her olive skin was covered in slash marks. Innumerable slash marks as if from a knife or a blade, everywhere, of various sizes and depths.

“You have really short arms,” said the young man next to Josh, in a teasing but not unfriendly way, perhaps trying to be flirtatious. The young woman only looked down at the cards and chips in the middle, ostensibly focusing on her work. 

“But you have really long eyelashes,” Josh said. And she looked into his eyes, inscrutable.  

1…2…3…

At least three full beats went by, and she only looked straight into Josh’s eyes. Then she went back to her work without a word.

From then on, Josh threw the chips into the middle for her to stop her reaching, even when he had to break a house rule by touching other players’ chips.

“So it’s not about the stuff not hurting,” said a voice in Josh’s ear. “It’s about you weren’t able to handle it when it happened. You couldn’t handle that Sally didn’t say hello, come on, give me a break. There’s seven billion people on planet earth, they didn’t say hello to you but you couldn’t handle one of ‘em. That’s how you have to look at it. 

So, there’s not something wrong with Sally that she didn’t say hello. There’s something wrong with me that I can’t handle the most simple things in the whole world. Correct? So you let it go. You use it wisely and you release it. If you will do this, like I said, you will find that you stay centered.”

Josh looked down at his cards: queen of diamonds, six of spades. Fold. 

“It starts to pull out, you relax,” Josh heard as he picked up the voice again. “You don’t pull it back. I’m telling you, don’t try to be stronger than the noise that’s distracting you. The key is to relax. If you relax, you stay. Isn’t that neat? It is the relaxation that does it. So you relax through these disturbances. Every one you relax through makes you stronger for any other one.”

Okay Singer, Josh thought to himself, and he closed his eyes.

Something uncomfortable inside. As if pure energy had coalesced into a solid, sprawling structure within him.

Always amazing how it feels like there’s actually something solid in there, he thought. Well amazing is one way to put it. 

It was as if something that should be flowing like a liquid and nourishing him, empowering him, had become trapped. Blocked.

'Blockage' was always the word that came to mind. He felt like there were strange, alien structures, or knots, inside his body, causing great discomfort. It was as if his body couldn’t handle them, wasn't designed to handle them. And it hurt.

Ever since the time jumps had started, which he somehow also thought of as blockages or ‘time blockages,’ he had become obsessed with clearing out this inner gunk and had studied any material he could find about it. This had brought him to spiritual teachings. Somehow he sensed a connection between the inner blockages and the time blockages.

I’m telling you, don’t try to be stronger than the noise that’s distracting you. The key is to relax. If you relax, you stay. He recollected the words he’d just heard.

It is the relaxation that does it. So you relax through these disturbances. Every one you relax through makes you stronger for any other one.

So he relaxed. Deeply. He didn’t think about relaxing, he did it. He allowed the blockages to be there and honored their right to exist. Honored and accepted the reality that they did exist. For a few breaths he followed his belly rising and falling, felt the air enter and leave. He inhabited his body, felt his body’s energy from the inside. He came present, and as this relaxed him, instead of solid blockages he felt a softer weirdness, emanating from a place in his gut.

The soft spot, that’s what some call it, he thought. The spot I don’t even realize I’m desperately avoiding. 

In the past when weird feelings came up I pushed them away, often without realizing I was doing it, maybe without realizing they were there at all. I wasn’t taught how to recognize them and handle them so I pushed them down and over time they created this whole structure of painful blockages. All to avoid the soft spot, the weirdness inside.

But now he stayed with this weird feeling emanating from his gut. Awkward. Uncomfortable. And he would instinctively tense and start to close down in response but again and again he relaxed and allowed the weirdness to be. And he stayed, in the bareness and pain of his experience he stayed. 

Would you stay if she promised you heaven? The song rang in his head like a bell.

We’re not denying what we’re feeling. We’re adding a dimension to it. Another recollection.

And an intensity started to gather—he was reminded of when the time blockages begin, the swirling darkness that overtakes his world. But he kept following the breath, he inhabited his body and remained aware of its inner energy field, he stayed present with the soft spot and he relaxed. He relaxed straight through the weirdness and through the maelstrom of intensity. He allowed it all to be.

WOOSH! The casino disappeared, the chair disappeared, the earth disappeared. He was falling through a cavernous void, a glorious fall. Naked and exposed and free he fell toward certain death and he felt a liberation like no other—a liberation from himself.

Then caught suddenly. A net!

No. A blockage.

The whole thing had happened in only an instant and in that instant his body shook. He hoped no one had noticed.

And then Josh realized he was mostly clear inside. Empty, but flowing. There was a warmth and peace lightly vibrating throughout his body, as if his very cells were singing and dancing for joy.

After only moments this started to subside and he again felt the blockage which had caught him and brought him back from the void. 

There will be a time to free that energy too, but for now-

“Sir? It's your action."

Josh opened his eyes to find the young woman and the rest of the table looking at him.

“I have to go,” Josh said. He picked up a rack, put his chips in it and left without another word. As he walked he listened to the podcast.

“So you learn to work with your center. I’ve taken you to a beautiful place, which is ‘I’m in here, I am aware that I have crap in here with me. How about you?’

And it can get hit. That’s stuff you stored from before, it was stored with pain, I wasn’t able to handle it when it happened, it’s going to come back up, am I capable of handling it now? Sally went by, or I hear the word ‘Sally.’ Obviously it’s not as big as the first time, but I feel the discomfort, the slightest discomfort. I will not accept any, not a tinge of it. If it moves, I’m letting it go. If it happens in the heart or it happens in the mind, first reaction, relax and release.”

Josh had been walking without consciously knowing where he was going but it was as if some deeper part of him was on a mission. He looked at the blackjack tables and when he saw one of the dealers, it was as if his entire body lit up like a light bulb.

“Does anyone hear me? If you are distracted with what’s going on inside of you, I don’t want to be around when you’re dealing with us outside. Because you’re not dealing with us outside. You’re trying to manipulate the outside to make you feel better inside, aren’t you? So you learn this practice. This is your spiritual practice. What? Letting go. When? Always. Every single second.”

As he sat at the table he removed his earbuds and said aloud, “Thank you Michael Singer, that’ll do for now.”

“Yes, Josh, you’ve taken on a number of teachers. You’ve done well.”

“You know my name.” He looked at her name tag. “Tina.”

“I’ve been hoping you’d make it here, Josh. And I’ve helped you along. Right now you have no concept of how important it is, how important you are. How important the work that you’re doing is. But the end is drawing near. You’re needed elsewhere. It’s time to remember who you are.”

“Are you talking about-”

“I’m talking about a new beginning, dear man.

Sometimes you have to break it all down and start over.”

A chill ran through Josh’s body. He only looked into her eyes, having nothing to say.