Meditation over enchiladas con camarones

I been re-reading Jewish Meditation A Practical Guide by Aryeh Kaplan and over lunch today at Elsi's Restaurant on Burnet (tasty Salvadoran fare) my dear friend, Venida commented that the stress of our workplace is taking a physical toll. I waxed prolific about the value of meditation and finally admitted that I just can't do it these days. And we both agreed that our usual automatic routines, like putting the car keys in the basket on the table by the door, are no longer automatic. Just one more example of my developing cynicism, I guess. Or maybe it's just my shell-shock over the way business is conducted here in the Great State. I was away for almost 30 years and when I returned from rural north Idaho I was appalled at the disregard (translate "disrespect") for the well being of the common folk by those in power. I know they can't all be Illuminati or Bilgerbergen.

Perhaps its my idealism as a member of the Boomers. But even the ME generation, GenX, GenY, or GenNext seem to still appreciate that we always see the ones we step on going up when we come down.

So, tonight I sit here rambling on, using words as my meditation as is the Kabbalist tradition. At least, that's my excuse for the incoherent nature of the comments.

Now where did I put those keys?