ufi meditation practices have a dangerous element to them, I've found. Today I had to drive into the city for a dentist appointment and got stuck in major rush hour traffic on the way home. It's been warm here lately, the kind of warm everyone seems to love except me, because I'm sentimental for the East Coast seasons sometimes and it just feels wrong to be sweating so close to Halloween. I was running out of gas so I turned the air conditioning off and rolled down the window, just sitting there baking on the pavement amongst the grocery trucks with their ridiculous slogans and the Ford Focuses and peoples' lame bumperstickers.

Traffic is really a human equalizer. Admit it: technology and progress only take you so far as the next problem they have yet to solve (I am kind of in love with the Amish at the moment.). Lives are difficult and mundane all over the world, in all times and places. And as I was pondering this and breathing it something melted in me, that I'm special and not special at the same time, that my life could have a purpose and still be no more than one small Civic hatchback in gridlock on 101 North, and there was really no difference between those two things.

I was inching my way up a big hill and the big hot blue sky filled my view, and all of a sudden I was just completely ready to die. I was sitting there worried about my little concerns and at the same time could have just stopped the car and turned it off and walked away. Obviously I didn't, but in that moment there was no distinction between detachment and attachment, and it could have fallen either way.

Now that I'm back in my cool forest house I'm feeling more like usual, but it's still a disconcerting thing to know about oneself. Like it's completely real but completely wrong to have one side of yourself that could just chuck it all at any moment. I'm taking it seriously.