I did go to the dentist on Friday, but was reduced to writing this between movies at the Sydney Festival.
November verse 3: Dentist I used to focus on my breathing, hoping not to feel the pain. I’d concentrate on muscles, easing tightness to relax my brain. I used to chant a homemade mantra: Om madur,I give up Fanta, or words to that effect. The drill and picks would terrify me still. But these days if I pay attention closely to what’s going on – each nerve impulse, each tiny prick, each jolt – I find it does the trick: my mind’s too busy keeping track to let the panic goons attack.