As the waves rise and fall around me, I sit and meditate in my love seat.
There, an unassuming realization surfaces. I’m struck by the beauty and ugliness of practice. Like wings they seemingly oppose yet work together in propelling an organism. The serenity of the comfort zone in union with the bleeding edge of growth.
Afterward I feel excited and inspired. I write a haiku. I let it sit.
Days later the haiku’s effect on me is still present. I am not in a liminal state of waiting or wanting. I do things without thinking of when they will end.
A calm quiet washes over me. I sit and ride the waves in my chair, but ever so slightly less.
Daily life support.
Peace, the hold after exhale.
We are infinite.