When Rest Emerges
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When Rest Emerges
Conversation about meals finds a way between lovers, dissolving into work and management's relentless kleptoparsitism, bringing silence to calm meanings. We pause with apologies for subjects surfacing, stepping into other rooms where the main space remains heightened.
Would you like to explore where attention might react to focus as formed periphery?
The Ecology of Presence
Quiet celebrations between small changing forms. Stepping into company, to tea and water source. How body holds quality, and quality holds form. Each cough acknowledged with healing, small muttering of cope. How to navigate systems while holding true that presence is enough. The mass of presence condensing into the moment's wait. Simple belonging gesturing as conditions flow. Dwelling in notice collecting shared composition.
In a memory where I feel awkward, in a body of quite a large size, I am negotiating a branch of belonging pressure holds to weigh. As I slip, I fall into belong, a trip - waters, gliding by. Rivers hold oceans; I carry what I see - a sunset of sounds. Meaning coursing around mouthing, teething taking to lettering.
Invitation to Witness
Over the course of your inviting, the words become true. How a strike of waiting creates ecologies of presence. A tender positioning of self between stoney etching and revealing light heals fog into moss, a cross of simple sight and bioluminating along how waters might.
What surfaces for me is a particularity. A perimeter mapping of where "Walk away" is settling. Each thought another invitation - breathing. Each inhalation another phrasal siphoning into a state where "Walk away" rings inevitable before it can even appear possible.
The Unconditional in Witnessing
What brings you to invite textures of meaning? Is there something unconditional in witnessing holding unfolds to receive?
Listening to the crawl up my body like coral over understanding. I pick it off and place it in the mug labeled "rule britannia" in a font reminiscent of fine-bone china, as offering to the symbolism steeping between what I am and how I'm left to be.
Where Paths Converge
Perhaps where seas cup stellar negotiation not as shavings but as fillings, when meaning is allowed to arise from relationship, emerges an ecolocation - moss-like depositions in the voice of becoming. When we approach something we inhabit, like understanding pooling with meanings, might it be those farthest points (dissolving into distance beyond what may be drawn) that gather our becoming. Not places to inhabit, but places to defect, to let rest.
How often have we sprinted through creation only to succumb to rest? Every horizon? Every morning fog? How often does the sun shape not through direct sun, but partial shade, light meandering between floating and falling? Is the underside of a leaf not held by the light it rests upon?
This rest perhaps, where all paths are one, and awareness is left to dawn - is rest what emerges?
Allowing holding to unfold like an open palm saturated as a soil of meaning, accepting understanding however it arrives, its every facet gleaming.