Ah friend. Your gentle wisdom and quiet playfulness permeates these words. And though these words are (as we know) both signposts and masks, they shine like the beautiful sun they describe. A smile curves up, pushing tears in its movement, a pleasing, clarifying flow, as I read here (transmission not bounded by distance or time or electronics or marks on a page…). Thank you dear one for your courage and your love, written here and resounding like a bell, calling us home.
So well said, Hans! We are never not in motion, even if the external expressions we are conditioned to measure our action by aren't readily apparent, the molecules, the energy—they are all constantly in flux. Thank you so much for reading and for sharing this reflection 🙏
In answer to your question, I'd say the question itself. I feel the comfort of the question even as I read it. I am often in my head about every blessed thing that goes on in my life, as if I need to account for and judge it all.
What makes me feel unshaken is the concept that I can feel unshaken. So thank you for your words which provide the comfort I so desperately need💜
Ah, your comment kept spreading through my body in gentle warmth as I was reading it. Thank you for receiving my writing with such openness, letting it touch you. What you describe sounds like direct insight into the nature of You. I hope the question I offered here can aid you in returning to this knowing whenever you feel shaken 🤍
“There is a new intimacy with life, beyond meaning. I learned I need not force my heart to care, frame the moment as sacred, or meaningful. I can just let it be blank. In the sense that, I let it be what it really is: empty.”
These are the words that really resonated with me, and the words that preceded this. I have had similar thoughts while walking through the woods and asking them to tell me something meaningful. I realized at some point (I think it is reflected in my first Substack post, “Hathaways Pond Insight”) what I was doing, and that it was limiting my experience.
These words also relate to my current experience with relationships, especially the one that is fraught with misunderstanding and anxiety.
It would take too many words I think to explain but thank you, Justyna, for your courage, sensitivity, and ability to communicate these insights. 🙏💚
Ah friend. Your gentle wisdom and quiet playfulness permeates these words. And though these words are (as we know) both signposts and masks, they shine like the beautiful sun they describe. A smile curves up, pushing tears in its movement, a pleasing, clarifying flow, as I read here (transmission not bounded by distance or time or electronics or marks on a page…). Thank you dear one for your courage and your love, written here and resounding like a bell, calling us home.
🥰
Thank you, dear friend, for this kind and warm reflection :) And for receiving my words with an open heart 🤍
Dear Justyna,
Thank you for this piece and this question:
"What helps you return to the place in you where you feel unshaken, even as life swells and shifts around you?"
The answers to this question are numerous and the first one that comes to mind is... questions like this.
I love being reminded that that place exists, however it happens.
Sometimes in a song, sometimes in a joke, sometimes in a teaching, sometimes in a poem, sometimes just in the memory of one of those moments.
So, thank you for this moment, this reminder.
Love
Myq
Oh, that’s beautiful, Myq! I am so glad this post served as a little reminder for you. Thank you for reading and for sharing 🙏
Water is, and flows, and in winter the flow slows to appear frozen. But molecules continue moving till spring thaws for more fluidity.
We are, and we flow. We can simply be, and even in being, the molecules continue moving.
All of us are water. Words flow in living. Thanks for sharing your conversation with so many thinkers here.
So well said, Hans! We are never not in motion, even if the external expressions we are conditioned to measure our action by aren't readily apparent, the molecules, the energy—they are all constantly in flux. Thank you so much for reading and for sharing this reflection 🙏
In answer to your question, I'd say the question itself. I feel the comfort of the question even as I read it. I am often in my head about every blessed thing that goes on in my life, as if I need to account for and judge it all.
What makes me feel unshaken is the concept that I can feel unshaken. So thank you for your words which provide the comfort I so desperately need💜
Ah, your comment kept spreading through my body in gentle warmth as I was reading it. Thank you for receiving my writing with such openness, letting it touch you. What you describe sounds like direct insight into the nature of You. I hope the question I offered here can aid you in returning to this knowing whenever you feel shaken 🤍
But self is not a thing to improve. It is a process, fluidity.
thank you, J. x
Thank you, dear Elena, for taking the time to read. I am so glad this post resonated with you 🤍
Beautifully said! Thank you! 🙏🏻
Thank you for reading, Cherie!
Beautiful 💙
“There is a new intimacy with life, beyond meaning. I learned I need not force my heart to care, frame the moment as sacred, or meaningful. I can just let it be blank. In the sense that, I let it be what it really is: empty.”
These are the words that really resonated with me, and the words that preceded this. I have had similar thoughts while walking through the woods and asking them to tell me something meaningful. I realized at some point (I think it is reflected in my first Substack post, “Hathaways Pond Insight”) what I was doing, and that it was limiting my experience.
These words also relate to my current experience with relationships, especially the one that is fraught with misunderstanding and anxiety.
It would take too many words I think to explain but thank you, Justyna, for your courage, sensitivity, and ability to communicate these insights. 🙏💚