Going Inkless

     You may not know this, but a library workroom can get a little noisy sometimes.  With meeting room noise leaking in through the walls and the friendly chatter of employees, it can get difficult to concentrate.  Since much of my job requires focus, attention to details, and clear thought, I've developed strategies to deal with the occasional hubub.  Counting in another language can help me keep from being derailed by random numbers in nearby conversations, provided the language is different from those likely to crop up in the area.  Systematic double-checks and lists can help to make sure nothing gets missed.  Music is a great tool in that effort, too.  When things are getting hectic and the noise level is rising, I can find an oasis in my headphones.  I still have to keep one ear partially free in order to catch a ringing phone or answer questions for coworkers, but a little music can effectively cancel most of the distractions and allow me to do my work more efficiently.  

     The smell of old canvas in my car was comforting in the last few work days of the week.  I started packing on Wednesday for the trip I planned to make on the weekend.  It wouldn't be far, just a few miles from home, and it wouldn't be long, only a single night, but I would be ready.  This was to be my first solo camping trip in about a year.  Various health issues and scheduling conflicts had kept me from the experience, and now that I was feeling mostly better and could stake out a Saturday, I was eager to go.  Eager and a little nervous.  The past year has been busy pointing out that I'm older and less invincible than I used to be.  Could my skills have deteriorated while I waited to be strong again?  Those same health issues had impacted my daily walking routine and kept me from taking the longer weekend hikes I liked as well.  I could see the difference in my leg muscles.      Then there's the matter of packing for the trip.  A single night alone requires a

     The perfect thing to write about struck me suddenly the other morning.  It was a bolt of inspiration, like opening a door into Springtime.  The subject was one of those new truths that bubbles up from time to time, distilled out of suffering and experience left to simmer quietly over time.  Like many such revelations, it was profound, yet simple, a shift of thought that welcomed peace and happiness into the soul.      All was there in that quiet moment.  This one harmonious chord was accompanied by the phrasing and ideal words to be able to share the secret with any who were open to the idea.  I determined immediately that I would put it all down on paper the minute I woke up. Yes. It came to me in a dream.      Cliché, certainly, but cliché for a reason.  There isn't a culture on this earth that hasn't placed some importance on what goes on behind our eyelids when we go to sleep.  Even beyond the concept of prophetic dreams or magical significance, we may con