The toughest yards

For those who write, whether for business or pleasure, is there a congenital condition that drives them (us!) to put chalk to slate, pen to paper or finger to touchscreen?

Writing, in whatever form, with whatever instrument, is meditation to me.

I meditated upon the benefits of organised sports when I covered high school sports for the Huntsville Times newspaper in the mid-90s.

I meditated upon the benefits of technology when I wrote computer code, starting in the 1970s entering opcode for microcontroller systems built in my and my friend’s basement.

I meditated upon symbolic writing when I drew artwork or made stop-action animation in the past few years.

Meditation is still a perplexing activity to me, as strange a label as chemicals listed on a shampoo bottle (“I’m putting what in my hair?”).

Writing and meditation are interlinked and mysterious, as they should be.

I receive emails written by anonymous people, covering topics that are the same to me but in apparent opposition to each other, including ones from a group called the Presidential Prayer Team (“Mobilizing America to Pray”) and ones from a group called the Brights Network (“illuminating and elevating the naturalistic worldview”).

Is meditation simply one way amongst many to learn?

The older I get, the more I realise the less I know.

I want to believe I am personally wise but keep opening myself up to letting the wisdom of strangers and friends/family enlighten me, taking time every day to reflect upon my ignorance.

If meditation is how to handle ignorance, I am happy.

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