When we’re young, nothing is in its place and that works just fine for us. There is no thought to cleanliness and order. In fact, things not in their place is just how we like them. With all of our toys spread out, we can make sure to play with all of them. I’m striving once again for this type of untidiness. I want all of my adult toys (that sounds weird) in front of me at all times so that I can play with them: guitar; knives, pots, pans, and spices; ballet slippers (that’s right); rod, reel, fishing line, flies; hand wraps and gloves; and finally, computer and phone. I like to play on the computer and phone. They’ve got everything one needs. I can avoid loneliness when I’m alone and I can avoid people when I’m among them. As long as I stare at the screens, nothing as it is—that dreadful reality around us at all times—has to be or seem the way it is.

This morning went the way it always does: wake at 6am, straight into rumination, Wim Hof breathing, a guided meditation to avoid ruminating, followed by the dreaded cold shower. “Cold water is merciless, but righteous,” Wim Hof says. There are claims, scientific supposedly, that Wim Hof’s breathing techniques, meditation, and ice bath therapy have cardiovascular, nervous, and immune health benefits. It’s said to relieve symptoms of anxiety and depression, to improve sleep quality, to change one’s mindset. Maybe I need to give it another couple of years.

One thing’s for sure, I can hold my breath for over two minutes now during the retention phase of the breathing. The technique goes as follows: breathe deeply in and out for about 30-60 breaths; exhale and hold for about 1-2 minutes; inhale for 15-20 seconds…and then do the whole thing over again for 3-6 rounds or more. After you breathe, jump into a cold shower and maintain awareness of your breath as you freeze your genitals off. If you’re searching for presence, awareness, God, whatever you want to call it, you’ll find them temporarily in the cold. The ice bath is heavier. Your eyeballs will shake in your head and you’ll know what it’s like, temporarily again, to be an enlightened being—back to an earlier state of existence when things needn’t be in their place. I sometimes think that’s what it might all be about, to let your things remain strewn about with little care. And if you can get paid while you’re doing it, you can buy even more toys. But you must be careful, if you’re too wound up, too tight, you’ll put your toys in the closet. You’ll be too tidy and you’ll forget to play with your things.

My niece the other day dreamt that I brought her ice cream. Reportedly, she ran downstairs to see what kind of ice cream Titio (me) brought her. And when I wasn’t there, “It must have been a dream,” she said, I can only imagine, disappointedly. So as not to crush her dreams too early (there’s plenty of time for that), I bought her ice cream. I arrived at my brother’s place and when she saw me, she greeted me in the way she always does: not at all.

The advice I’ve been given over and over so that she’ll begin to like me goes as follows: “you have to bribe her.” Ice cream, markers, candy, toys, whatever I can think of, I’ve brought them all. There are occasions, surprisingly, when she’ll run to me and give my leg a squeeze and she’ll tell me all sorts of things about her life like, “I want candy,” or “where’s my present?” I’ve begun to spoil her for just for a little bit of love. It might be better to leave things as they are, sans ice cream, so that things between us, and generally in life, remain where they are, already in their place, exactly where they need to be and nothing more.