People who are doing the work. Who have been practicing knowing the difference between Me and You. Because when you know what is yours, yourself, and what that feels like, then all the rest is atmosphere. Wind.
You’re the tree, and someone else may move you, or even uproot you, but in the end you never were the wind.
And when both of you can be yourselves, it’s safe. It could feel tragic and terrible and sad at any moment, of course, but you’re safe because you can’t be lost. You can’t disappear when you know who you are and who you are not.
The tree and the wind aren’t quite the right metaphor, but it doesn’t matter, because I know what I mean. And it isn’t always a story to tell, to share, to try to land over there like this is some garden party game. I can see the lines of connection. I can feel the at-homeness in my own life.
Even though I still like words best, I also am liking more and more when I don’t rely on them at all.
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