You Eat Peanuts, Butch. That’s What You Do Best.

I’m sitting here in my living room eating peanuts with an elephant. He sits across the room from me and pops peanuts in his mouth with his trunk. He stares at me with beady little eyes. I find myself matching him, peanut for peanut. I stare back at him and feel the gravitas of his physical presence.

I wonder how he got in here. He is much too big to have come in through the door or the window. He must have been much smaller when he entered. How could he have been here that long without anyone noticing him? I can only conclude that no one wanted to see him. We only see what we want to see. Or rather we only acknowledge that which we pay attention to.

There have been clues. The pungent smell of elephant dung, the peanut shells littering the floor, and the bags of peanuts stacked by the door, all lent credence to the idea that maybe there was an actual elephant in the room. I even admit to seeing an occasional glimpse of grey in the room from time to time. I just have never followed up on the glimpses.

But now there is no more denying it. He is there. Nothing I can say or do on my own can change  the fact that he is here. But it is good to have finally seen him. I am glad that I can talk about him and talk with him. It was becoming harder to ignore him as he got larger and larger. The truth is, you can’t unsee him once you have seen him. That single fact changes the nature of your thoughts on the matter.

It is liberating to be able to talk about these things rather than continuing to sweep them under the rug. I know I can’t be the only one that feels this way. It is frustrating to hear people talking as if he isn’t there. It’s nothing that I wasn’t already cultivating within myself.

Sweet dreams, don’t forget to tell the ones you love that you love them, and most important of all, be kind.