working through meditation

dip your little head into my warm thoughts i say.  even words seem foreign.  already too light for this world the bubbles rush to the surface of my tea.  there's so much that i want to tell you.  but i don't even know who you are, that is, you are me, of this i am coming to see.  but you feel separate too.  or something.  who are you?  multiple mes spilling out like jelly beans skidding across the linoleum floor.  buttered popcorn are your favorite.  i've always liked licorice.  there's a word that looks nothing like it sounds, licorice.  and my mind is undisciplined.  you are undisciplined.  scrappy little kid, rambunctious little urchin.  urchin or puffer fish or tea bag floating on the surface like a sunfish.  who am i? i ask you.  and you laugh and dart.  don't the books tell you?  don't you know?  how silly.  aren't you nothing?  aren't you nothing and everything, a multifaceted jewel in a unending web of inter strung multifaceted jewels? 

the tea that steeps beside me at this very moment is called 'detox'.  i hope to flush my system, to clear a path in the forest of my fragmented mind.  unfortunately, the tea is too hot to sip and i must live with my insanity a little longer.  the sound of fingers against keys...ah revelry!  listen to the sound of each word as you say it.  sound, say, sound, say...like waves.  does it not make you so hungry and alive?  oh you, you, you, youyouyouyou, you just    wanted    release.  needed to write.  yes.  not insanity.  put away the DSM, you are okay.  and we are talking and you've stopped scrawling inappropriate images in the hallway.  yes, it's been a while since you've heard the clack, clack, clack. like the sway of a ballroom dancer on pointed heels, waiting, tapping, your foot, clack, clack,clack,clack music of the keys...oh the beauty!

and now that you are free what is it you wanted to say?  say that i love the keys, i love the flat, smooth surfaces of them, that i'm in love with the look of my fingers dancing across them, that i love the image of each character and the power to bring meaning from the flat little slates, to design worlds, to make music, to free myself to enter into some greater arena.  to dedicate myself to the meticulous detail of putting it all together one little line at a time.  first the t then the i then m then the e.  time.  writing is meditation.  to be distanced from writing, to be taken from it, is to be pulled from my very self.  there is no one absolute way to enlightenment and there is, i do not think, one absolute moment of enlightenment.  that is to say, one does not become enlightened and forever stay that way.  enlightenment or deep understanding comes in a variety of forms.  to maintain balance i must write and remember that writing is not a task, but an immensely beautiful form that i am able to revel and steep myself in.  it is me.  i must remember to love it as a connection to myself.  i must approach it as i should approach myself, embracing every character, every tap, every image because it is divine.