The Living Current

Sometimes it is felt — not as a thought, but as contact — that life is not a set of separate things.

One current.

It is here as breath and heartbeat.
And it is there as wind in branches, waves drawing in and out, leaves opening.

For a moment, the border of “me” thins.
Not through effort.
Simply through seeing.

A blade of grass is not other.
Soil, sun, rain — no…