The mind says
this or that.
Choose.
It has been doing this
for as long as we can remember,
drawing lines,
creating edges,
making one thing
different from another.
And yet...
the closer we come
to what is true,
the more those lines begin to blur.
This
and that.
Both.
Not because one perspective
is right and the other is wrong,
but because both can be held
within something larger.
This is where we shapeshift.
Not into someone else,
but into a perspective
with more room.
A perspective that can hold
the human experience of separation
and the knowing that
there is no separation.
The coming and going
of this body.
The thoughts.
The feelings.
The stories.
And beneath it all,
nothing is actually separate.
There is only movement.
Only the humming vibration of life
moving through itself
in countless forms.
And perhaps paradox
is a cairn along the path,
a small pile of stones
quietly marking the way
when we're getting close.
Close to the place
where there is no or.
Only and.
Only oneness.
Allness.
Isness.
Thusness.
Here.
Now.
All of it.