The Pool...

Pss. 49:3 3 My mouth shall speak of wisdom; and the meditation of my heart shall be of understanding.
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Writers call it the pool of words, some the pool of thought, any way you look at it, there is a metaphorical meaning behind... the pool.

Steven King made fictional use of this pool in Lisey’s Story. While Lisey and her deceased husband found the pool to be either a healing place, an imaginary portal that few could step through, or a burying place where the deceased lingered or passed into another realm, the pool existed in their minds, and apparently Manda bunny, Lisey’s sister.

In a form of reality, the pool exists within each and every one of us but often we get so caught up with our daily existence that we never take a dip. We stand back looking at the ripples, fear the plunge because the water appears too cold to be immersed in, or we just walk around the pool edges running our fingers across the top, so we can add to the ripples.

In the pool lies clarity. I love a pool that is ice blue, wrinkled with drips of sunshine embellishing the length and depth. A pool is so different from say an ocean or a river because of the clarity. (assuming you have the proper chemicals and filter to keep it clean.)

The ocean can be laden with crabs and such that keep you at a foots length from really diving in to feel the jellyfish wriggle between your legs. The river is equipped with many rocks and sharp edges that you always want to be wearing protective gear on your feet so they don’t get cut or bruised.

Then there’s the pool. The refreshing pool that sits with it’s wavering water, calling out to you to come in and drink from the beauty. You wade into the shallow end, perhaps slowly making your way to where the water almost crests the mouth then you feel yourself getting lighter and lighter and you float off to the deep end. I always like clinging to the side with my feet paddling behind me, a complete control experience.

Writer’s are metaphorical people. We like to swim, not dip in the pool! This is where we get our clarity, whether we are in the ocean of turmoil, the river of boulders, or the pool of sanity; we swallow all of the offerings and gulp down the intense feeling and bring forth a story of reliable prose.

We have a filter in our brain that allows us to see through the murky, algae infested waters and it is in this place...we listen. We block out all of the incoming thoughts, scrambled as they were and we decipher just what the universe is trying to tell us.

The pool is our meditative process, one that a lot of writer’s or people, rarely dip into, for unknown reasons. Why not dapple in the pool of silence and meditation? You’ll see... it's a clarifying experience.

Pss. 119:99 I have more understanding than all my teachers: for thy testimonies are my meditation.