drink
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dance
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Woke this morning in that place half here, half dreaming. For a moment had this faint sense my breathing was actually boat oars rowing me through a slowly trembling body of water.
I was the boat, the oars, the water, the dream. When I breathed well, I moved along with the rhythm and pattern of the oars–jutted across the water. It was so beautiful. When I barely breathed, I stopped, floated; maybe even drifted (aimlessly). All a bit mystical, like a fog lifting over something deep.
Wish I were a painter, or something like that, to show some of the things I have been seeing in meditation–fantastic images, colors. Of course, the thing seen inwardly is hard to translate into any kind of language… I so wish there was a way to catch the feel of things sometimes, to turn them outward… just so I won’t lose what is glimpsed. To share it.
We all feel this way, after dreams. Like you found something. Secret. Delicious. Beyond description or knowing? Half-awake, half aware you have been writing inside a book, or making a new art, or seeing amazing architecture… images. You go groggy to paper to put it down, and its all stuck. Crumbled. Daylight erases the inner life and you stand there half naked, alive. Awake.
Maybe that is what coffee is for… to jolt us open.
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I wish I had something better to say. Feel a little dumbfounded the past days. I almost put coffee cream in the cabinet instead of back in the fridge. Once, I put the keys in the refridgerator. :) It took a while to find them. Too much writing does this sometimes – does it happen to you? Some people never lose their focus. Some do. It is funny (fun, too) to be human!
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Someone just asked me “do we have a chordless extension chord?”
Its from the Boston comedian Steven Wright … a phrase so “right” for what I feel right now.
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drink . dance . breathe . dream . create .
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