Bring On The Spectators!

I have it good.
I can feed my addiction anytime I want,
as much as I want.

I have a pool table in my living room.

On a moment's notice
I can slip into my other self.
Fast Mikie, pool shooter.

Sometimes, when I'm shooting pool,
it's like I'm in another universe,
the cue dances in my hands,
my eyes can see every angle,
and I'm having so much fun.

All the hits are clean.
Click. Plop.

I'm alone, usually,
but sometimes shooting with another player.
Quiet, except for the sounds of the surf in the distance.
And the Click, Plop.

Ah, the sweet serenity of solitude.
To be alone with the most important thoughts in the world.
Mine.
And then, almost without notice,
to have no thoughts at all.

That's where pool comes in.
It's a meditation.
This is where I find peace.
Playing with the Laws of the Universe (physics)
on a table green with cloth,
and filled with celestial spheres,
and me, the Grand Mover, poking his toys with a stick.

What mankind-benefitting thought could you have
while fritter'n your time away with such trivia as pool?

And that's just the point: to think no thought at all.
To be of no conscious mind.
To let pool be played,
and let me be the player.

This is the meditation.
The person who gets to this place is Fast Mikie.

It is not a competition.
It is an exhibition of an altered state of cosciousness,
during which a beautiful performance occurs,
moments of improptu virtuoso,
a magic wand is waved and objects disappear,
while other objects spin wondrously 'round the table,
as if by some impossible, invisible force.

There is no competitor when I am like this.
He becomes a spectator.

Bring on the spectators!

;o)


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