The Snacks of Pottenjolly

On “Enlightenment.” What we want is a pleasant and captivating dream, with a curious cast of characters

It’s the day after the biking accident. I summon my mother for a visit. She brings brie cheese with rice crackers, cooked sausages, grain-free maple granola, fruits, and a dozen eggs.  We sit at the table with our snacks. Her Husky mix, Kia, is under the table at my legs. I massage Kia’s face while my mother talks. 

“I’m taking a course,” she tells me.

She pulls out a book filled with sticky notes. It’s called “The Yoga Sutras of,” I think she said, “Pottenjolly.” She starts reading excerpts of Pottenjolly out loud. I say nothing. I listen but don’t hear much. Then the magic word: “enlightenment”.

"I’m reading Jed McKenna," I say. 

She looks disinterested — McKenna is not an Indian name. 

"He says the path to enlightenment is a very painful process." 

"Really? That doesn’t make sense." 

"He says no one would do it unless they’re already in tremendous pain and there’s no other option."

She’s baffled. 

"Enlightenment is about truth," …