And what is me, is love.

Self-reflection has never felt so deep, and so necessary.

Peeling back layers of myself to find where a feeling lives.

Observing its manifestation within me.

Reaching out to it.

Nurturing it.

Anatomizing the molecules and building blocks that create a feeling.


It’s like taking apart a puzzle.Each piece is a slightly different hue, shape, texture. It carries weight in the hand and alters the body’s center of gravity. And all week I’ve been inspecting these puzzle pieces. Carrying them in my pocket. Taking them out and holding them up to the light. Deconstructing this dizzy feeling into its most simple, comprehensible components. It’s been dazing, and it’s made me wander. Mostly because it seems like it’s never ending. But I remember Patience.

Searching down this path, and then retracing and trying another promising direction. This deep, winding circuit into my mind. There’s just too many puzzle pieces. How can I grasp onto this feeling and dissect it fully?


 But there’s a light. Calm.Clarity.

 Looking at every piece, every hue, shape, texture.

Nothing is solved.

But everything is.

Recognition is the resolution.


Sifting through the individual pieces one by one, eventually, the feeling that clouded the vision, is scattered into its pieces before all to see.

With perfect clarity.

The attachment is gone.

The judgment is gone.

And everything just is.

And it’s beautiful.

.: | :.

The simplicity in seeing emotions this way is a new and profound experience. Pure awareness of an energy within the body, pulling it out of the darkness, putting it under the microscope.

.: | :.

Understand it.               Cherish it.             Let it go.

 .: | :.

Back to the awareness, where what is left is me.

And what is me, is love.

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