5 things to do after you’ve found Waldo and everything makes sense
Published in
2 min readApr 24, 2020
- Be in a good mood. This should come quite easily after finding Waldo. Everything makes sense! You can relax, you can see the fun in everything. Commemorate the fun with each move you make. Take funny steps! Think interesting thoughts! Then wonder why you aren’t always in a good mood like this. Wonder if this is how good a mood your friends feel when they’re having fun and you just can’t seem to let loose like they are. Determine to feel more often like you have found Waldo and everything makes sense.
- Walk into the laundry room. Immediately notice the washer and dryer. Say, with reverent excitement, “The machiiiine” sort of like how the aliens in Toy Story all say “The clawww” as it descends upon them. Gently touch the smooth white metal of the dryer, crouching down to look inside it with your eyes opened wide and mouth gaping, smiling.
- Take a shower — trust me, it’ll be an enjoyable scene from start to finish. As you step inside the shower, formally reintroduce yourself to the water. Say “This! Is water,” as if you understand it now for what it is. This will be sort of like the water scene from the Hellen Keller movie, except you won’t freak about it because you actually already knew what water was.
- Notice your legs. Become struck by how similar your legs are to your mother’s. Cry for her. For your connection. You are hers, and she is yours. You and she exist within your own bodies and minds, but both of you exist on top of these legs, like tree stumps. Feel them, as you shift your weight from left to right, to left. Sway like a family of oaks in the wind. When mom is gone she’ll still be with you, standing with you in your legs.
- Climb aboard a single passenger boat that’s awaiting you at the dock. Row some distance before realizing your fate. Your fate is that you are about to row until your death. When you stop rowing, you’ll stop living. So, keep rowing, the water shimmering around you in your wake. Row long and without despair. See many places — a lifetime’s worth. The moment will come finally, when you stop. Time will slow. Perk your ears at the background noises of the world, each sound promising the next like a symphony orchestra telling a story, the end of which you won’t hear. Then, all will go quiet. Lean overboard to look at your reflection, which in your constant rowing you haven’t taken a single moment to check. In your reflection, you see Waldo.
