For a long time I thought the goal was to quiet my mind. The more I tried, the more identified I’d become, until I couldn’t tell where the thinking ended and I began. I kept assuming if I could just slow it all down, I’d finally feel like myself.

It took me a while to notice the strangeness in that. I was trying to find myself by getting rid of the thing I assumed I was.

The thoughts haven’t slowed down much. What changed is smaller, more subtle. Sometimes, between two of them, there’s a pause I didn’t put there. And in that pause, something is already here, watching the next thought arrive.

I’m not trying to stop the stream anymore. I’m just less convinced I’m in it.