June 6, 2002

Today is the day for tea and a Russian novel.

Today I'm sitting back and letting Brian Crowley be me. Whether or not it is an enviable position, you be the judge. When you are done reading this, (or before, your choice), you can find more of his work here.

Guest "Claire Zulkey" Diarist: Brian Crowley

You know that weird feeling of disorientation that sometimes greets you when you wake up in a strange place, like in a hotel room on a friend's couch? That happens to me all the time.

Sometimes it happens in my own apartment, right in my own bed. I'll wake up at six a.m. in my darkened bedroom, my body burrowed beneath the blankets, and for a brief moment I'll have no idea where I am, what day it is, nothing. It's all a complete blank.

By my count, there are three possible responses to this phenomenon. Each has its own benefits. With the right amount of practice, they can all be mastered.

Panic
The most natural reaction. And perfectly reasonable, given the circumstances: In one quick instant you have been returned to the state of a newborn, freshly squirted into the harsh light of the delivery room. ("Who the hell am I?" can be a terrifying thought. Ask any baby or middle-management professional.) When panic sets in, you spring from your bed and anxiously search the room for a clue - a clock, a window, a picture… anything that might help you get a read on your compass.

Thankfully, this panic never lasts for more than a few seconds. When your identity is restored, it smacks you harshly, with the uncaring force of a tidal wave: "Hey! You are Claire Zulkey. And you are late for work."

Calm
Much more rewarding than panic. You must lie still for this to work. Resist the urge to get anxious or look for immediate answers. Just stay beneath the covers, breathing deeply, and you'll treat yourself to the unique pleasure of sensing the particulars of your life flow back to you one morsel at a time: "Oh yes, I am visiting Jenny in New Haven… I am in her guest room… It is Saturday… And I am Claire... Claire Zulkey."

It all happens so naturally, as gradually as your eyes would adjust to bright sunshine (or to darkness, depending on your worldview).

Experimentation
A good time. Again, don't let panic overwhelm you. Just remain calm. But now, instead of gradually awakening to your own cozy set of circumstances, allow yourself to remain in the blissful state of "not knowing." Your name, location, and station in life? All a mystery, with the answers waiting patiently on the fringes.

With practice, you can sustain this feeling for a long period of time, giving you plenty of opportunity to explore and test its potential. Pretend you are someone else for a while. Or, even better, see if you can open your eyes without making any sense of your surroundings. Not easy, but it can be done. If that works, try standing up. (Careful...you need to cradle your sense of "not knowing" delicately, like eggs in a basket.) Now gently exit your bedroom and open the front door. Take a walk. See how far as you can go before regaining your bearings.

I once made it as far as the Produce Section at Jewel. It was the click of the automatic produce sprinklers that eventually broke the spell. Standing alone in the middle of the grocery store, I was surprised to discover that my first moment of wakefulness was not peaceful, but filled with dread: Where was I? Who was I? Why am I standing in Produce? The answers that I had deliberately, playfully set aside for so long now seemed beyond my reach. Perhaps I had gone too far. Maybe everything had been lost. Panic began to set in.

But then I caught a quick flash of my own reflection in a paneled mirror, and it was enough to bring everything back. Standing there in my T-shirt and shorts, freshly thrust into the world and feeling the cool mist bounce off the mangoes and peaches, I happily allowed the glorious facts of my life to wash over me.

"I am here. And I am Claire. Claire Zulkey!"