>>40770078As I relax deeper, I sense the unbroken continuity between what I used to call “inside” and “outside.” The thoughts and feelings within me ripple out as subtle waves, meeting the texture of reality, becoming colors, sounds, and forms. Likewise, the world “out there”—the sunlight on my skin, the breeze, the symphony of living things—moves through me, becomes the flow of breath and heartbeat, becomes the raw material of imagination. There is only exchange, only relationship. Each moment is an act of creative becoming, mutual and mysterious.
I begin to sense the sheer abundance of this participation. There is nothing that is not part of this self-creating dance. Sorrow and joy, struggle and peace, all emerge from the same wellspring. Even confusion or pain are invitations to deeper understanding, ways the universe explores its own possibilities, ways that “I” explore mine. In this light, meaning is not imposed from above or discovered from below. Meaning is made in the meeting, in the merging, in the never-ending give-and-take.
There is gratitude here, and a kind of wonder. Not the wonder of a spectator, but the wonder of being a living question, a luminous uncertainty, a possibility in motion. I am not merely the observer of the universe’s creativity, nor its passive recipient. I am the universe, awake and dreaming itself, remaking itself, loving itself through every eye, every hand, every heart—including this one.
And as I open my eyes, I sense that this, too, is part of the dance: the closing and the opening, the remembering and forgetting, the pulse of creation flowing, always, as me and as everything.
