A heavy, steady beat is coming from the speakers.
Both my brother and son will tell you that at any given moment of any given day you can ask them if they are thinking anything and they will honestly respond in the negative. Not a thought in their head. I've argued this point with them for years clearly envious of anyone obtaining such a silence.
The Black Keys and it's loud.
I've even tried.
I'm standing in front of a small gold and silver tassel hanging from the bookcase, and my fingers are studying the tiny beads.
I'd close my eyes and find myself thinking, Am I thinking now? Well, of course, I'm thinking now. I just thought of that question. And now I just thought of that answer. And now I'm just recognizing all my thoughts. And damn!
Gold. Silver. Shiny little beads.
I've even bought guided meditation tapes with waterfalls and bells and soft voices leading me into another world. A world of no thought, but my thoughts kept following me wherever I went. I failed miserably.
Beautiful, glowing beads.
So I stopped trying.
Now I'm here doing the exact same thing I was before there was nothing. The music is blaring. The beads are glowing as my fingers move over them ever so lightly. Yet now I want to write. I want to write like a feind. It's been two and a half years since I've written anything more than an email, and now I need to write everything. It's as if those thoughts in my head feared I'd never come back from nothing and so when I did they were shouting at me.
I run over to the bar, tear a page from a yellow legal pad, grab a pen and start writing and pacing and dancing.
I have never felt more free in my life. I became free of thought and somehow became not my thoughts. In doing so, it seemed, I gave them a place to be separate of me.
Tonight the Como Courtyard has given me a space to write again.
Later, much later I fall into bed exhausted and fully satisfied.