Held Close to the Ground

Today, I met this space from a different place… closer to the ground, and quieter than before.

Not seated in the chair where I often come to reflect,

but lowered here on the sofa, with the weight of my body asking for stillness I could not ignore.

There is a different kind of awareness that comes in moments like this.

Not the kind we reach for, but the kind that meets us

when everything else falls away.

From here, the room feels changed. The chair is still there.

The light still enters.

The quiet presence of those who came before me remains.

But I am not moving within it in the same way.

I am being held by it.

The softness beneath me… the ground that steadies without asking anything in return it becomes something more than comfort.

It becomes a reminder.

That even in the moments where I cannot rise, cannot create, cannot carry in the ways I am used to ~ there is still something holding me.

Not asking for strength.

Not requiring understanding.

Simply present.

And as I lie here, watching the light in the distance rather than sitting within it, I begin to see that this too is part of the quiet company I keep.

Not just the stories, not just the lineage, not just the gentle work of continuing but the unseen grace

that meets me in my weakness and asks nothing more than that I remain.

And perhaps, even here close to the ground and far from strength I am still being held in ways I do not need to understand to receive.

xox