The silence of not knowing.
No doer nor nothing to be done.
No thought can improve what is already here.
We don’t have ideas, ideas have us.
Carl Jung
In times of trauma I have no idea what I’m doing except somehow saving myself.
Sitting, wondering at the beauty of existence but also inquiring into the horrors here too.
Pain yet complete aliveness.
What is the duration of this moment? Does it last only until the the next instance of inattention?
Thisness 