12/5
The in between. I feel like the goo in the middle. I feel like a strong gust of wind. I know the ambient noise is loud. I know that a lot comes through from unknown places. The sound of silence used to be overwhelming. I'm starting to learn what's coming from where. Slowly.
How many conclusions do I hear every day ? How many minutes my mind spends considering how it all fits together.
I remember laying on the rainforest floor. Like a rolodex, I could see countless wisdoms speeding by. I went to grab a pencil, but I was lying motionless, stunned by the ocean of a strangely starless sky. For a split second I knew how profound each contact card was, and in the next second I knew there was no way to retain them all. I would have to surrender and recall what I could.
I feel like that still. Still a bit shocked anyone can go anywhere at all and do anything coherent while all this information is flying by. It seems my route to seeing how I fit into any of this is long and winding.
I think I had more permission than many to diverge and float, I thought I would know by now. It really is beautiful, the organic flow of realization. Of course it couldn't have taken any less long. It is vast, it is subtle, it is incredibly my pace. I prefer not to draw conclusions, but I am a natural unfinished deducer.
To surrender is such an easy and satisfying thing once the door really opens. But I swear from all the trying I've tried, I'm really not so sure it doesn't just happen in it's complete own timing anyway.
What really do we do in the in between ?
