Two (Can Be As Bad As One)

Two can be as bad as one
It’s the loneliest number since the number one… (Three Dog Night)

Nah, it can be one helluva lot worse, and two to the power of x (use your imagination to fill in the x = ? part) times lonelier. Hey, I didn’t say has to be, I said can be. Two united is heaven, two divided is… duality, with all that's come to mean.

She’s back at the table, having cleared the supper dishes and washed them, and having noticed how easily she can change the table’s function now that she’s one again, or more or less one again, at least not two with a totally separate human being body hanging around, wondering why she’s so obsessed with the computer, with writing, not so much with editing because that’s after all how she makes her living if you can call it that, but with words and lately with this Diving Deeper thing, what kind of good can possibly come out of that? and for that matter, whoever invented the computer ought to be shot.

Ok, so she’s back, alone, staring at the blank page straight ahead, or would be if she hadn’t just dropped her eyes for writing meditation. Counting the beads that appear in the shape of keys under her lowered eyelids, under her curved fingers, counting the fingers and the finger taps as they press in seeming random fashion on the keys that astonishingly translate into real words on the screen that she sneaks a peak at every now and then to satisfy the little editor self that sits beside her, inside her, well, inside her mind. NOT to be confused with who she really is.

The mind, or at least matter in the mind is not reliable, it changes from minute to minute like white fluffies chasing each other across a blue sky on the windiest of days. A shapeshifter, trickster, that’s what it is, the mind. It tells you one thing, then without warning changes it to something else entirely. Shows you a split-second shot of a small mogul and before you know it, it’s convinced you you’re facing Mt. Everest. And either you’re at the bottom with an unbelievably arduous, really impossible (except you know it’s been done) climb, or you’re at the top with no conceivable way to get down (that you can think of, and don’t forget, it’s the mind that thinks you).

Or, it makes you forget why you left the x, er, ex, ok, let stand. The unknown quantity. Out of sight, out of mind. No, that’s not it, if it were I expect that devious coyote-mind would be much less of a problem in this case. Absence makes the heart grow fonder. Ah.