What if what I see is not what is really there?
What if there is more to it, or less?
What if the label I put on something says more about me than what I am labelling?
What if I didn’t label it at all?
What if I just let it be as it is?
What if knowing is born in that space?
Tight. Squeezing. Dark.
A thundering reverberation
That threatens to overwhelm
As it crashes against every cell
Wave after suffocating wave.
Until, bereft of energy,
It and I begin to recede.
Then a quivering softness
A tender broken openness
Arising and gently embracing
Inner and outer
Self and other.
Dissatisfied, restless and unsettled
Lost in what used to be
Grasping at what should have been
Forgetting that contentment is always right here
Relaxing into what is
Trusting in the aliveness of each breath
Feeling the ache
Touching the possibility
Remembering that nothing needs to be fixed
In this heart
In this now.
Writing to a dear Dharma friend
The dog stretches contentedly by my side
The same but so very different
Still taking my breath away
Reminding me of the beauty
And that which is changing and unchanging
Within and without