I’m not a Buddhist, but Enlightenment was my favorite Van Morrison album for a little while, and I always rescue spiders in a jar and free them outside instead of squishing them with a paper towel. I rescued mice this way too until my cats were old and blind and the mouse that lived underneath my bed started chewing on my mattress. Still, I never squished a mouse with a paper towel. I lured them into traps with natural, GMO-free peanut butter, which is exactly what I hope to have stuck to the roof of my mouth when I am inevitably snapped in two by a swift metal clip.

That’s why I don’t get why my left leg is still bothering me so much when I run. I’m not saying I skipped the part of the Buddhism TED Talk about the inevitability of suffering, but there’s also supposedly an end to suffering, and–more to the point—there’s karma, so it was definitely my understanding that being kind to spiders plus wishing the best for all living beings would result in pain-free running and overall wellness. I also keep trying yoga, and when I look with my third eye, I believe what I feel for the people who are able to stick with a yoga practice is admiration, and not jealousy about their not having the same inner ear thing that causes me to be cynical and bored in class.

Van Morrison said he didn’t know what enlightenment meant, which was honest. I have always trusted him, even though I don’t think fantabulous is a real word. The Words of Enlightenment on my GT’s Kombucha bottle the other day were: “You already know what it is you desire, next you must focus on allowing yourself to receive.” Damn it, GT. I am still processing the news that kombucha doesn’t have any real health benefits. I’m pretty sure you’re not allowed to have desires if you want enlightenment. It’s not actually clear to me that you’re allowed to want enlightenment for yourself unless you can simultaneously want it for all the mice under the bed with equal wholeheartedness.

That’s why I don’t care in any particular, stand-out way, how the marathon I’m planning to run this weekend goes for me. I hope there won’t be suffering for any creatures on the planet that day, and if, by Sunday, around 7am PST I haven’t been snapped in two by a metal clip while eating GMO-free peanut butter, maybe I will be among the non-sufferers for a few hours.