State
The following arose without strain:
was I ever a baby, a child, a youth, an adolescent, a teen, a young adult. What about the moment when I ‘woke up’ where is the existence. Where is the ‘real’ memory. Where is the truth. Does it like in the now, the past, the lived experiences. Have I been here forever… how come I dont remember being born.. why am I all of a sudden here again and again in this moment. I have been to everyplace but no place. I walked down the path to the woods to get into the woods, or did I walk down that path, I can see the path. But I looked at my foot… and it was clean…
There are moments when awareness turns back upon itself.
Not in confusion —
but in sincerity.
Where does reality actually live — now, past, or story?
Why does awareness feel both eternal and freshly appearing?
These are not questions of instability.
They are questions of depth.
What remains is presence — steady, embodied, here.
