Βy miss dialectic


A Day in the Light of MD



A playful report of daily practices and mundane tasks of a fictitious persona, or perhaps a dialectic game of reasoning beyond the limits of experience, unveiling subtle manifestations of the necessity for protection and care.




Act I: If I could offer you only one tip for the future, sunscreen would be it. [MD’s bathroom. Early winter morning]

As she gently applies sunscreen –part of her morning affirmation and self-care ritual–, she reflects on anything that revitalizes her. Traveling, meeting new people,different cultures, slow food, getting lost in nature and drifting in unknown megacities. She prefers the slowest means of transportation trusting embodied time more than getting from point A to point B. That gives her the perfect condition and freedom to daydream, her second favourite activity after art, which is her job anyway. She calls herself an “art operator” and is confident in her ability to connect people and ideas, to mediate and reinvent meanings and realities. Although she’s self-reliant in this imaginative universe, she prefers to co-exist and share it with others, as relationships fulfil her more than objects. But the stress of inviting others in her world, often does take over.

Act II: Get plenty of calcium. Be kind to your knees. You’ll miss them when they’re gone. [MD’s therapy session waiting room. MD looking outside the window. April, late afternoon]

Her name is Ola and she is an herb that grows in the cold mountains of Europe and Asia. She helps the body adapt when consumed by stress and she’s been quite successful for many years. Her specialty is improving the symptoms of burnout related to work fatigue. She operates as a natural booster, a professional enthusiast and an effective force and, as you may well imagine, she is pretty busy. She strives to maintain a positive attitude and motivate her clients, friends, family, lovers, colleagues, boss, students. She often wishes people needed her less. Her duty is quite stressful. The anxiety of being positive all the time could result in toxic positivity, proven to be lethal. In order to keep herself optimistic, des1irable and effective, she feeds on calcium, chromium, folate, iron, magnesium, zinc, omega-3 fatty acids, Vitamin B6, Vitamin B12, Vitamin D. In reality, all she needs is a fertile ground, some strong but flexible roots and loads of bees.

Act III: Keep your old love letters. Throw away your old bank statements. Stretch. [A few months later. MD on an island, in late August]

Laying on her back on a beach, she struggles to hold an open book steady at eye level. The wind is pushing the pages back and forth and she acts annoyed, although she hasn’t read a word. She turns her head to the left and sees her friend already asleep on the towel next to her. She turns to the right and sees the dog tucked under the only tiny sliver of shade for miles, doing the same. The rest of the bay is lifeless. It’s the end of summer and people have already dragged themselves onto the boat to return to work. By this time of year, you are expected to have completed the cycle of escape, decompression and rejuvenation and be fully prepared to maintain that feeling for another year. Until you are back at that same beach, holding another unfinished book, wondering if you actually need to exchange a couple of words with another human being, or if it’s just that you haven’t managed to reach the state of nirvana to resist such a compulsion. She sits up and looks at the sea: “Am I doing it right? Is this stillness enough sustenance? Am I ready to go back? How do I make this moment last?” She lifts the edge of her bikini top to check on her tan and notices her skin starting to peel. She turns over and lays back down in a sphinx position reopening her book. “When I think of what I already lived through, it seems to me I was shedding my bodies along the paths”. She reads the sentence again.

Act IV: The real troubles in your life are apt to be things that never crossed your worried mind, the kind that blindside you at 4 p.m. on some idle Tuesday.
[MD sitting in a coffee shop working on her laptop around 4 p.m. on a Tuesday in October]

Being more and more inclined to wear sunscreen, she fantasizes of being a sunscreen herself. One with ‘ultra’-special features: Light and soft, with a non-oily texture, and a formula gentle to apply. Its richness would leave no mark on your skin other than a translucent glow. Its scent, elegant and discrete would be surprisingly simple and familiar. Like the smell of comfort and recurrence of someone you sleep with. Cool and refreshing in the summer days, warm and tender during the winter. A trusted companion who would whisper in your ear: “I am the only screen you need”.

Act V: Don’t feel guilty, if you don’t know what you want to do with your life.
But trust me on the sunscreen.









Act Titles taken from song lyrics of “Everybody’s Free to Wear Sunscreen” by Baz Luhrmann based on the Chicago Tribune column by Mary Schmich.







NEXT:

Dependencies
By Tom Clark
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