Writings

You've been asking so loudly you couldn't hear it agree. The quiet isn't where the answer arrives. The quiet is the answer.

Notice the thought. Now notice the noticing. Whatever was already there before the question is what you're looking for.

What you covered to keep going didn't disappear. It waited, the way seeds wait. Quiet isn't the same as gone.

Two lives moving in the same direction, never meeting. The closeness you mistook for connection was just synchronized loneliness.

You assume something must be pulling you. Look up. The ceiling is empty. The dance was always yours.

Between the thing that happens and the story you tell about it, there's a small unguarded second. That's where you actually live.

Strip away the roles, the names, the things you've been called. Whatever doesn't leave is the part worth knowing.

Chasing it is the surest way to be the one thing it can't catch. The pursuit and the absence have always been the same shape.