returning to a daily sadhana

i still wake every morning as sunlight comes over the edge of the planet. time glows the hour, 5:12, in a cluster of large red LEDs next to my head. i look at the stars through mosquito netting. the sea breeze rises in the open windows. i slide my legs out beneath the white diamonds, and pad over the painted wood to the bathroom. my face greets me as I splash my face seven times with water, blessing the new day, and scrape the excreted toxins of the night off my tongue. i am still yet riddled with indigestible sugar and other processed _foods_. A smile at the growing hair on my chin and a look at the dark ring around my blue irises, then i go to my seat, pull around the blue check duvet because it's cold, and the eastern horizon is lightening. O Master! Thou art the real goal of human life. I am yet a slave to my desires, putting bar to my advancement! You are the only real God and power to raise me up to thy stage. Amen. Sitting upright, gross energy churns through my back and i itch between my shoulder blades. my crown tickles and warms. i gaze with my eyes into the blue diamond, and my i plunges and listens to each beat of my heart and i watch the light to see what it does. i become absorbed, the churn lessens and becomes fine and subtle: the gentlest sensation, a sensation without sensation, a nothingness overflowing. The space inside me feels incredibly vast, and my sense of i is no longer up top, but down here. twenty minutes pass and i witness. my eyes open before it is time, and I sit and look at the light as it falls on the trees across from me. Tomorrow, perhaps I will sit longer, be more absorbed, be more focused and one-pointed, craving ever more the release from the bondage of my ego's desires, wishing to harness its power and plough with mastery for humanity and not the winds of my selfish fancy. nightly, i sit on my bed and watch the accumulated impressions of the day pass from me as if i were a sooty factory chimney. Molten gold fills my chest as the smoke leaves, pulsing with my breath and heartbeat. But really, nothing is what happens to you, and meditation is a journey of discovery that no book can teach.