words are like water.

It is a funny business posting personal thoughts "publicly" to the zero people who actually read this blog, besides me. The idea behind posting to a blog instead saving "documents" on Word, is it feels somehow less robotic and more personal, albeit, if only for me. My relationship to blogging is like a casual, noncommittal hobby. Writing only when the the mood strikes me, the act is self indulgent and secretly self gratifying. I come and go as I please. Yet, within the act, some greater good emerges. Clarity.

Clarity is like an elusive lover. When Clarity is present, the world, my thoughts, my experiences feel… well… clear. Life feels better. Music sounds better, colors seem brighter, knowing the meaning of my existence feels like it is just a reach away. But this lover eventually leaves me for greener pastures. Or perhaps it is I who becomes distracted. Carried away with life, I lose sight of the point. The greater picture is no longer clear and translucent, palpable and understandable. Confusion, distraction, dis-ease creep over like a dark cloud obstructing the reflection of the sea, above.

 The point is, writing gives me a chance to collect myself. We call this "centering" in Buddhism. For me, it is the point of meditation. Sure there are deeper, more esoteric points in meditation, such as experiencing the void, the death of ego, Union and the dissolution of the self. But for the shallow practitioner-- the act of centering is like the practice of returning awareness to the breath. It is a constant and simple reminder, of returning to the center. In this way, writing, and meditative centering, feels astonishingly familiar, like a mother's embrace. Grounding, familiar, as if returning home from a long journey away.

I would also like to specify, the words shallow and deep often carry subjective connotations. I admit, I too use these words to convey, compare and make judgments. So in order to clarify the words for myself, I would like to invite you to imagine:

A shallow lake, no deeper than whatever depth instills a sense of comfort. Now, for whatever deficiency the lake has in depth it compensates for in distance. The shallowness is expansive; this lake is vast and warm due to its lack of depth. It is a pleasure to be in, easy to enter, fun to splash in. And since it is shallow, there is a natural clarity in it. You may even be able to see the lake floor.

Now, imagine the depths of the sea. Deep down, there is darkness where the sun cannot reach. There is much less clarity for the light cannot illuminate what we wish to perceive. For any lack of perception, we may feel a sense of mystery in the unknown. Perhaps we also feel fear, for it is cold down in the dark, depths of the sea. This is not a place to splash around and float about. For most this depth is impenetrable, untouchable and unknowable. It takes time, effort and deep commitment to travel to the depths. A certain disposition-- a certain curiosity-- that naturally separates those who are comfortable in shallow bathwater, to those who seek the mysterious darkness of the depths.

Words are like chameleons. They are shape shifters. Words are like water, they take on the shape of their container, they can penetrate and are permeable. They can be felt, and like water, words can be manipulated: cooled heated and damed, dependent on the speaker's intention. Yet, water has a natural course as well. And so do words-- without the judgment of "good or bad", without subjective misuse,  words have carry particular existence. Words, like water, have unique expressions, unique meanings, and with enough force, they have a unique flow. Same with water. Water gives birth to the earth-- by rain, rivers, creeks and streams, water flows and restores. Giving life a chance to express itself and to enjoy its pleasures. Same with words. Yet, water can also carry destructive forces that erode beaches, tear down trees and drown life. Same with words.