Pelvic Floors, Digital Manipulation, & The Art Of Disappearing

The thing about working with other people is that they occasionally tell me about thumbs or fingers up their butt. That has been my experience today. A colleague describing his physical therapy says the PT person is working on his pelvic floor. I want him to be talking about linoleum, but no, it's still a thumb (or finger) up his butt. I wonder if he's going to physical therapy or federal prison, but I don't ask.

One way I disappoint in conversation is that I didn’t react. A basic fact of my life on the job is that I don’t want to encourage much conversation. I prefer to close the classroom door, put on Bill Frisell’s version of [Brian Wilson’s “In My Room,”}(https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6rNqEfiiN8k) and write about digital manipulation of the pelvic floor through the anus.

I write about other things too.

If I sound curmudgeonly, I can play that role, but there must be a word that more fully captures who I am and what I'm doing. An internet search provides the following:

• solitary tending to spend a lot of time alone
• retiring tends to avoid social activities because they are shy
• withdrawn very quiet and preferring not to talk to other people
• antisocial not interested in meeting other people for friendly relationships
• self-contained not needing the help or friendship of other people
• insular not interested in meeting anyone outside your own group or country, or not interested in learning new ideas or ways of doing things
• reclusive living alone and avoiding other people

I want to be alone to read and write. The work I love and most want to do is solitary so I crave more and more solitude. Perhaps the only word for this is writer.

This sort of thing is easily misinterpreted as rude, especially when I rudely dismiss people, but I'm following Naomi Shihab Nye's profound advice:

The Art of Disappearing

When they say Don't I know you?
say no.

When they invite you to the party
remember what parties are like
before answering.
Someone telling you in a loud voice
they once wrote a poem.
Greasy sausage balls on a paper plate.
Then reply.

If they say We should get together
say why?

It's not that you don't love them anymore.
You're trying to remember something
too important to forget.
Trees. The monastery bell at twilight.
Tell them you have a new project.
It will never be finished.

When someone recognizes you in a grocery store
nod briefly and become a cabbage.
When someone you haven't seen in ten years
appears at the door,
don't start singing him all your new songs.
You will never catch up.

Walk around feeling like a leaf.
Know you could tumble any second.
Then decide what to do with your time.

Excuse me while I go become cabbage. You take care of your pelvic floor however you like.