Finding comfort in simple things.
Like just being here.
Still.
A little path-work.
Trying not to clutter my mind with more than just being.
The window cross, the thing that stands combined with the thing that moves through... again... stitched with magic thread, the magic, a reminder of how things appear and disappear. The form it takes, how we simply bear witness to that, until we are that.
A new post in small cloth, thought catching later.
