Among my many eccentricities, I meditate on a regular basis. I’ve been doing this since I was a teenager. But when you are young, you tend to use your meditation time to worry about things that you otherwise don’t have time to focus on, like, is my butt too fat, or should I move to Australia. As I matured, I began to understand that my meditation time was rare and precious. I could no longer afford to waste it on frivolous escapism or selfish worries.

What is the true goal of meditation? In my view, it is not merely to escape a stressful situation, but a way to train our minds to work as a tool. It is a way to observe ourselves objectively, and become aware of how we think, react, and feel about a variety of circumstances. We can then become the owners of our mind. We can use it intelligently, and not find ourselves constantly caught up in it.

Writing is a joy for many – a way to free your fantasies about moving to Australia, and put them down on paper. But it is easy to become emotionally involved in what we write, and instead of it becoming a tool for the transfer of knowledge, we instead find ourselves controlled by the writing.

Imagine if you were a contract writer, instead of someone who wrote for the sheer joy of it. The companies that produce romance novels, for example, use a variety of statistical data to determine titles and general plot outlines months in advance. They are producing a product – not a personal work of art. Let us suppose that you were one of the writers hired to (forgive me for this shameful pun) flesh out these plot outlines. It is your job to creatively work within the boundaries set out by your client. In other words, you didn’t invent this stuff. You are no more emotionally involved with the product than if you were someone hired to mop a floor – you only care about the floor in as much as you want it to be shiny. You don’t want to marry the floor.

In other words, you are able to observe yourself as you write. You can examine your writing based on a pre-determined set of criteria; your vision of your goal. (A book that women will buy faster than you can say “Fabio cover shot”.) Your writing has become a tool that you are in control of. It performs a function rather than sweeping you away with it. What a powerful feeling!

In a sense, this is the beginning of a quality editing process. You are neutral to the contents (or at least, you should be) and you can therefore evaluate them based on their true merit. Their worth as a vessel of knowledge, or meaningful art form. The zen factor becomes apparent when you are able to differentiate between the impact of the message, and the non-essential frills around that, without feeling any particular way about either part.

When we separate ourselves from anything, we become more appreciative of it’s true value. The observation – the zen-like quality – allows us to use our writing more effectively, more truthfully, and more meaningfully. In other words, it is a good thing that my butt is too fat, because that allows me to sit on it comfortably, and to write for many hours at a time.

I’ve talked plenty lately about being objective. An editor must remain so while editing another’s work. An author must attempt to be so while writing for their designated audience. And both authors and editors work best together when they learn to look at the work without bias or personal emotion.

But, for the first time, I find myself completely unable to remain objective when writing about a topic. And I think this means that I should not write about it.

Yesterday, I had to take my best furry friend to the vet, and after 15 years of loyal and loving service, I was asked to perform for her the most difficult service one can ever be asked. Our Betsy (Queen Elizabeth to those who knew her well) was extremely unwell. Deaf for some time, mostly blind, encumbered by hip displasia and arthritis, but still with an overdeveloped appetite, she was no longer able to cope. It was my job to care for her as well as she has cared for me, by easing her pain and freeing her from the confines of her diseased little body.

Every other time in my life that I have had to endure extreme pain or sadness, I have been able to “write it out”. But when I returned home from the vet for a drink and a rest, I found myself unable to write about the experience of knowing this bossy little dog. And even more unable to write about the experience of the afternoon. She had been gone less than 15 minutes when I stepped in my front door, and immediately, I went straight for my desk and sat down. But my hands rested on the keyboard for some time, completely still, before I admitted to myself that I could not write. Instead, I curled up in bed for a while and watched videos.

Some experiences are meant to be shared. If we have a unique and meaningful experience, it is our duty to use it to help or teach others. My experience was meaningful, but hardly unique. I take some comfort in knowing that I am not the first dog owner who had to endure the agony of the decision to euthanize their best friend. And so I think something I already suspected is true: not everything needs to be written. There are some stories that will not help people, or prevent someone else’s pain or struggle. Betsy taught me many lessons, such as not barking when your mouth is full, do not eat dead things you find on the beach, etc. And it seems she is still teaching me from beyond.

Just when I thought that my research about book launches and publicity couldn’t get any drier, I stumbled (tripped?) across the website created by Miranda July for her new book released yesterday, May 15th, No One Belongs Here More Than You. (http://noonebelongsheremorethanyou.com/)

I have struggled with design issues, the psychology of colour as it applies to sales, usability, and all sorts of other obstacles to web readability for many years. In one fell swoop, Miranda has removed them all with a dry-erase marker and a refrigerator.

You can purchase her book at Amazon for $13.80 US. I expect it will be worth it.

When you’re hot, you’re hot. I’ve been using Watson for a while now (http://www.intellext.com/distribution/2.4/FREE/welcome.html) to help me research various topics, and to ensure that I don’t miss related web content when working on a sensitive topic. It pays to know when, and where, people are talking about you.

Watson is an intuitive tool that senses what I’m typing in my windows document, and automatically finds related content on the web, in news, blogs, premium content, and even online shopping sites. It’s like a search engine that reads my mind. It also thinks to find stuff that I wouldn’t have thought of – like what the latest hot gossip is about a particular software company that I happen to be working with.

I collect dictionaries and the like – I know, nerd city. But my favourite thesaurus is looking a bit beat up lately. What a great time to discover ThinkMap’s http://www.visualthesaurus.com/, which I’ve been using as my dictionary / thesaurus tool for a few days now. It’s totally nifty – instant, accurate, and a great source of free-associating energy.

Imagine punching in a word that might be rather vanilla, and getting back an almost living, breathing, idea-generating response that floods the screen with associated words, classified by their parts of speech. Glorious!