That gyroscope in your heart

Good morning, dear readers.

Perhaps, like me, you sometimes tune in to A Prairie Home Companion on NPR and are familiar with the gentle jokes about English majors. Here is a question addressed to Garrison Keillor and the beginnings of his answer:

So, what exactly IS an English major supposed to do after college?
Andrea
--
This is the beautiful problem that confounds us all, Andrea, and we must face it every morning with as much wit and bravery as we can summon up. What you do, exactly, is get out of bed, pee, put water on to boil for tea or coffee, put bread in the toaster, choose between the apricot and blueberry yoghurt, eat slowly and thoughtfully, take a shower, and put on clean clothes, and by this time you likely will know what comes next. Merce Cunningham faced this problem and so does Michelle Obama and Brett Favre and the Queen of Tonga. If I believed in the efficacy of long-range planning, I'd recommend it, but I believe in luck and improvisation and the gyroscope in your heart and the built-in b.s. detector that English majors are supposed to acquire, having created so much of it in our term papers.

All right. This is true of meditaors as well! We are supposed to have a built-in b.s. detector having had so much of it arise in what we call our "distractions" during meditation. I also don't much believe in the "efficacy of long-range planning" and I highly recommend the approach offered above by Mr. Keillor.

(Yes, and that "10 items or less" sign in the stores irritates me no end as well!)