It used to be that most of my thoughts were formed from stillness. Lying awake at a bedtime designed more for parents than children, using muddled black shapes or the criss-cross grid ceiling as a backdrop for whatever meandered across the screen. Time moved slow, and I can remember finding the landscape of an entire moon in the close up glint of the hall light in my stuffed bunny's eye.

Now that I only go to bed when I'm already tired, my downtime is performed on a fluid backdrop. Window of a subway car, grass and sidewalk. Alternately, a glowing screen like this one, but it rarely stops moving for long. Time moves fast, and things are happening.

I can try to make myself stop and not move, but the years have filled me with event handlers and I can feel the squirming at the lack of a back and forth. A fortune teller's closing remark was for me to take up meditation. Also that I'll live long and be happy.

I like that that I get to steer my own Ship Of Big Events now, but I'm pretty sure it doesn't have to leave my mind a hummingbird's.